


Absent Abandonment

by cat_77



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, violent themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: The Mortal Cup may be out of their hands, but at least one faction is still determined to build a loyal army.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for the violent themes, suicidal thoughts/references, and non-con references.
> 
> * * *

Alec dragged himself to the shore out of sheer force of will alone. Every movement seemed to drain him further, cost him that much more of his non-existent reserves. Even here he knew he wasn’t safe, knew he needed to move, to hide, to find... something. In a moment though. He needed a moment. He needed to simply breathe. He just wished he knew if he actually had the time to do so.

His mind was muddled and slow and the only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that, now that there was no water blocking the effort, the whole tracking thing should work again. Maybe. If they were looking for him. He knew at some level that they would try at least once and hoped they hadn’t given up when and if it failed. He also knew that if his team, his family, could track him, so could the others.

Sure enough, there was movement, sound from through the overgrown greenery. A rush of a breeze and he knew he did not have the strength to fight whatever currently loomed over him.

“You look like shit, Shadowhunter,” the being said, voice familiar.

He squinted against the darkness and the water that still dripped in his eyes to see Raphael squat down beside him, not risking his fine suit by kneeling in the muck. “Feel like it too,” he admitted, his own voice barely audible. “Don’t suppose you happen to have a rogue stele on you?” he coughed, ribs aching with the action.

“Your little magic wand that gives you powers you tend to use against me and my kind? No, can’t say that I do. But the people looking for you about a hundred yards away might,” he replied.

Alec flopped over onto his back, maybe a little pleased when the mud spattered against otherwise perfectly shined shoes. “They can’t see me like this,” he pleaded. He knew he was asking a once enemy for help even as he knew that enemy was loyal to someone far beyond a mutual friend.

Raphael sniffed the air, eyebrows raised. “I smell blood. I smell...” He cocked his head to the side, contemplative. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He stood just as the glare from a witchlight flooded through the trees. “Too late?” Alec guessed.

“The mud will cover most of it, already is,” Raphael promised him. Louder now, he called, “I believe I found what’s yours.”

There was the crash of booted feet against broken branches, a breeze as Raphael quickly stepped away from the oncoming storm that was his parabatai. Jace skidded to his knees beside him, mindless of the muck. If more flew up than was strictly necessary, he didn’t notice, even as a certain vampire made a face at his now ruined suit and filthy hands. It would simply look as though Raphael had already tried to help him should anyone notice.

“Alec!” Jace shouted, so very loud in the silence. He patted him down just as he knew he would, fingers at his pulse, palms pressed against bruised bones. “Where are you hurt?” he demanded. He didn’t need to ask if he was.

“Stele?” Alec asked instead. His voice was a groan that ended on a cough as his lungs finally got rid of the less than pristine water he had managed to swallow.

Jace handed his own over easily enough, not questioning the need for it. He did, however, repeat, “Where are you hurt?”

The wash of relief from the healing power of his runes was usually nearly instantaneous, and even the smallest change was currently welcomed. He still had injuries far too great to be healed that quickly, no matter how much he’d prefer otherwise, but anything was better than nothing at that point. He couldn’t hold back a relieved breath, nor could he stop the way he slumped further into the mud.

“Alec?” Izzy. Of course she was there. It would be just as hard to keep his tells from her as it was from Jace, maybe even harder. She was dressed semi-practically for the environment, not that her usual heels would have stopped her when she crouched down and ran a cool hand over his overheated forehead.

“I’m... not fine, but I will be,” he promised them, knowing he was speaking to them both and that they would call bullshit on anything less. “I also might still be being followed,” he added with a wince at the end. The last time he saw his pursuers was a good ten minutes ago, maybe twenty. Time lost meaning in the wet and the dark.

Both went on instant alert. Actually, all three of them did if the way Raphael’s fangs were visible was a sign. “You think they’re dumb enough to go up against us?” Isabelle asked, staff instantly at the ready.

“Not with a warlock added to the mix,” Raphael commented just as the air nearby sparkled and swirled. Alec wasn’t even going to question who made the call. If Magnus had been looking for him, which was feasible, his own magic would have summoned him. Otherwise, there were three obvious options right next to him.

Magnus stepped through, as mindless of the mud as his siblings had been, instantly at his side with a hummed, “Oh, Alexander...”

He decided to go for humor because he had nothing else left, and said, “Come on, I couldn’t miss out on Martini Mondays, right?”

Magnus’ face morphed into one of concern, but it was Jace who pointed out, “Uh, Alec, it’s Wednesday. You’ve been missing for three days.”

Alec blinked, images and timelines racing through his vision only to disappear again before he could form any coherent hold over them. That was a concern, to say the least. So was the fact that he just now noticed they were missing the final member of their team. “Where’s Clary?” he asked though he feared he already knew the answer.

“We were kind of hoping she was with you,” his sister replied.

“She went missing about sixteen hours after you, and Simon disappeared about twelve later,” Raphael explained, which also gave reason for his presence in the search.

Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike had been going missing for weeks. Well, werewolves and vampires at least, as the seelies had been keeping to themselves lately. Some were returned after only a few days, others still had not been found. Of those returned, no one had any recollection of what had happened and even the Silent Brothers had yet to find a trace in their minds. Alec had been foolish enough to think that he was the exception, that he could put himself out there, put himself at risk, and come away unscathed with the answers they sought. Apparently, he was very, very wrong.

“I...” he started, but then let out a frustrated sigh. “I can’t remember if they were there. I can barely remember what ‘there’ looked like. There’s glimpses but...”

“Shh,” Magnus soothed him. He stroked a hand through the wet and matted hair much like Isabelle had. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, and see where we can go from there. Can you walk?”

“I can carry him,” Raphael offered. Alec was at least a head taller than them all, but that was no match for vampire strength and they all knew it. “I’m already sending you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked.

Alec pushed himself upright, slipping and sliding in the muck until he was at least in a semi-upright position. “I think my ankle was broken, but it’s already started to heal. I should be good,” he insisted. He didn’t mention the way he still held an arm against his ribs, but neither did anyone else.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Shadowhunter,” Raphael told him. He lifted him as though he weighed nothing, first to his feet and then shifted his grip as he prepared for more. He also managed to smear more mud over the exposed skin that the water had begun to reveal, so clearly he had ulterior motives.

Alec was having none of the great rescue though, and pushed himself away to stand on admittedly wobbly feet. “I can do it,” he grumbled, though he shot Raphael a grateful look for continuing with the coverup. 

He took precisely one step before Jace slotted himself under his arm and said, “But you don’t have to.”

He tried not to find the extra support welcome, just as he tried to ignore a muttered jibe about his stubbornness and the addendum that it was probably that same stubbornness that got him to where he currently was versus stuck wherever he had been. Instead, he took careful steps towards the portal that appeared and thought about how he was finally going home, even as he questioned why ‘finally’ had been added when his mind still insisted on a far different timeline than what the others claimed was reality.

He materialized in the central living area of the loft and was shuffled right on through to the bathroom, bare feet doubtlessly leaving a trail in his wake. Jace braced him against the tub and Alec breathed in relief that his farce was almost complete. He just needed some running water and the chance to scrub the blood and scabs away as much as the mud that was doing a decent job hiding them all.

Jace even started the taps before he asked, “Which do you want more, help or privacy?” Magnus strode right on in with his sleeves already rolled up and expression of his face that he was not to be questioned. “Or, you know, your boyfriend,” Jace relented before he motioned that he would be right outside if required.

Alec knew that he had to be quite the sight: shirtless, barefoot, covered in grime and wearing what might be torn hospital scrubs as pants. He hoped to use that to his advantage, maybe play the sympathy angle a little bit, but was stopped before he could even trail his fingers through the stream to check the temperature.

Magnus snapped his own fingers and the mud was gone. Unfortunately, what lay beneath that mud remained. “So that is why Raphael was willing to risk his Armani,” he mused. His eyes glowed golden, not bothering to glamour them as the emotions roiled through him.

“I...” Alec started, but stopped as he knew it was not worth the fight.

“You are only revealing what I already knew,” Magnus admitted. Off of the look he received, he explained, “When you use your runes, they leave behind an energy signature, a magical fingerprint as it was. Every place that healed, every place that is now sealed but was once ripped open, glows like a neon sign for hours after the initial attempt if you know how to look for it.”

Alec hung his head and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A finger tilted his head upwards, and forced him to meet the golden gaze opposite of him. “Don’t be,” Magnus insisted. “I would much rather that you are whole, that you feel no pain, than the alternative. A little honesty as to your true state would have been nice but, seeing these signatures, I fear that there were wounds you yourself were unaware of before they were healed.”

That caught Alec’s attention. “How? Only a Shadowhunter can activate runes.”

Magnus’ fingertips glowed blue as he waved them in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed as he spoke more to himself than to the injured man he was reviewing. “Rune magic, yes. But there is something more. An undercurrent of spells that speaks of a warlock.”

“So a Shadowhunter working with a warlock? Wouldn’t be the first time,” Alec mused, trying to get a smile. He earned the barest upturn of lips and considered it a win. “Though it doesn’t exactly clarify this whole mess. Angel- and demon-blooded beings kidnapping their own kind? What possible purpose could they have?”

He had dared to look down again while he spoke, and realized Magnus’ spell was still at play, and likely explained why the other man was so quiet. Hovered a breath above him were spots of blue like a holographic overlay. Some lined up with the dried blood he had yet to have the chance to wash off, others over what appeared to be unmarred skin. He saw the dots of what had to be multiple needle marks and a wide slash that dragged near his parabatai rune. He raised his hand to trace it, wondered if Jace had felt it even as he himself had no memory of it, and his eyes caught something else all together.

His wrists were encircled with the glow, clearly where he had been cuffed and held in place. One was faint and barely there, while the other was bright and nearly throbbing, scrapes of it tearing down over the curve of bone and the back of his hand. A hand that still ached despite using the iratze.

He closed his eyes against it, just for a moment, and he was there. A stele hovered over the rune to nourish him, and then edged closer to the one that healed. He twisted and surprised the figure that held it, ripped it free and stabbed upwards as he carved one for sheer and utter agony on the nearest exposed skin. While the figure dealt with that, he sketched another one to further unlock himself. He was free for a fraction of a moment before he was set upon by others. He lost the stele but not the fight, and ran for whatever freedom might be out there.

There were hands upon him, just like in his memory, and he thrashed them off, surprised when they didn’t fight back. Instead there was a sound, faint at first but growing in volume when he concentrated on it, not loud but definitely persistent. “Hey, hey... Alexander, it’s me...”

He opened his eyes to see Magnus with his hands up before him, gone were all traces of blue or gold, all traces of any sort of power or control. He took a heaving breath and lowered his own hands, knew they had made contact and therefore he paused to search to see if he had caused any sort of lasting harm before he said, “Sorry. I...” he gasped.

“Shh,” Magnus soothed. The hands approached, slowly, telegraphing their movement and giving him a chance to shrug away. When he didn’t, they settled lightly on either side of his face, gentle and grounding. “Don’t be sorry. You have done nothing wrong. A little hesitance is to be expected after what you’ve been through.”

Alec scoffed. “I don’t even know what I’ve been through,” he admitted sourly. “There’s nothing until there’s something, and then it fades away again. I know the others that were found can’t remember anything either, I guess I just thought... I don’t know, that I’d be different, special, would end up having something they didn’t.” The details of the fight were already fading, as was anything to do with the location and who he had been up against. Already, he remembered the part with the stele, but not much more.

Magnus didn’t let him go as he tilted his own head to the side. “But you are. Special that is,” he insisted. Alec expected some sweet declaration, something cheesy to cheer him up. Instead, he got, “Your mind is warded against intrusions. It’s not as powerful as my own shielding, and perhaps I should have worked to create something stronger. After everything with Biscuit and her mother, I swore to myself that I would not let that happen again. That the holder of memories would have a choice. They could choose to remember or choose to forget, but the option would be theirs and no one else’s.”

“So you’re saying I’m choosing to forget?” Alec asked, not exactly warmed by the thought.

Magnus shook his head. “I’m saying some very powerful magic was used against you, and that your mind is doing it’s best to put the pieces back together again,” he insisted. “Perhaps it is all too fresh, the trauma too near of a thing. Once you relax, once your mind and body realizes it’s safe again, you will have greater access to what has been blocked.”

Alec shivered at the word trauma. He knew that was what it was even as he knew he would deny it. As for relaxing, that wasn’t going to happen until he knew the others were safe. Until Clary and even Simon were back and whole and telling bad jokes and stealing all of the good popcorn. Until they knew precisely what they were up against because they had already defeated it and sent the few remaining scraps back to the Clave to deal with.

“Come on, let’s at least get you started on that path,” Magnus urged with a gentle tug. He turned the water back on and Alec had to admit he couldn’t say when it had been turned off. He let himself be stripped of the shreds of clothing he still wore and pushed gently under the perfectly warmed spray. Magnus joined him without a word, his own clothing gone with a snap of his fingers. Those same fingers gently soaped him, massaged shampoo into his scalp and rinsed as much of the physicality as possible down the drain. The scruff of a three day old beard disappeared around the same time his mouth filled with the taste of mint, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful that nothing involved potentially sharp or penetrating objects near his skin.

He was rubbed dry with the fluffiest of towels that smelled like home, and helped into his own pajama pants and t-shirt. Despite the comfort he knew it would bring, he reluctantly turned down the fuzzy robe on offer, seeing it as far too much of a surrender as to his state of being for the remainder of the evening. Finally, with another snap of his fingers, Magnus was back to his own precisely styled self as he offered him a choice of sleep versus rejoining the impossibly patient others.

He shuffled out to the main area with a severe dislike of how long it was taking his body to finish healing. He knew from experience that the iratze weakened with multiple uses in too short of a timeframe, almost as if it needed a break to recharge. The slowness added credence to Magnus’ pronouncement that he had had other injuries already treated, not that he had any reason to doubt him anyway. Mix with that the toll from warlock magic being used on if not against him, and he suspected it would be at least hours, if not more, before his ankle could comfortably hold his weight.

Jace and Izzy were instantly on their feet the moment he entered. Raphael had begged off already, either to rejoin the search or to avoid Magnus calling him out for his subterfuge in front of the others. Alec found himself escorted to the couch and damn near physically pushed down on to it, surrounded by the three people in the world least likely to believe his declarations that he was fine. He could have not a single wound visible and the trio before him would still hover. He just had to decide if he appreciated it or not.

“I don’t supposed you suddenly have a mystical and magical perfect recall of everything that happened, do you?” Jace asked as soon as he was seated. His fingers toyed with a blanket and Alec glared at him before he could try to tuck it around him.

“Scraps,” he admitted, failing to keep the disappointment out of his tone. “Nothing coherent and nothing that actually stays when I try to focus on it.”

“That’s more than the others,” Isabelle pointed out hopefully with a shrewd look toward Magnus.

Magnus, for his part, tugged on his ear cuff and found a spot on the ceiling very fascinating. When she simply continued to stare, he relented with a put upon sigh, “I may have, possibly, added extra protections to Alexander’s mind in the past. These protections may assist in at least partial recollection given the strength of magic we are up against. They may also apply to not just Alexander.” He said the last part in a rush before he asked, “Is anyone else hungry?”

An assortment of sandwiches and chips appeared on the table before them. Alec leaned forward to examine the selection and was promptly handed one with roast beef by Izzy before she chose what looked to be a chicken or turkey one for herself. Jace grabbed the bahn mi, which just made Magnus conjure another for himself.

“Do any of the scraps help lead us to Clary or the others?” Jace asked around a mouthful of baguette.

Alec closed his eyes and tried to remember anything before he had reached the shoreline, but could only see water and weeds, so he shook his head. Even the images from before, the feel of the stele in his hand when he used it to escape, had already become hazy at best, much to his frustration.

“I may be able to push through some of the blocks placed in Alexander’s mind,” Magnus offered, albeit reluctantly. “I crafted the other wards myself and know the finesse they would need to be dealt with. If one did not know about them, those wards would arrange the memories in an accessible fashion once the person was removed from the threatening situation.”

Alec set what was left of his sandwich to the side. “Do it,” he ordered. He was not going to sit back and let others wait while he got comfy. He had been harmed, actively injured, while in captivity, which made it incredibly likely the others would be as well. If he had a way to prevent that, or at least limit it, he would do everything in his power to do so.

Magnus winced and admitted, “It may not be the most comfortable of processes, and you are already in pain from your existing injuries.”

Alec leaned forward and tried to ignore the pull of the muscles in his back from the action, the way his wrist still ached where it rested atop his knee and the near grinding sensation of at least two of his ribs. “This could help us find Clary. This could help us find six Shadowhunters and more than a dozen Downworlders. If the cost is a headache? I’ll gladly take it.”

The cost was, of course, more than a headache. A lot more. It also was not an instantaneous process. After what felt like an eternity of a thousand knives slicing into his skull, Magnus released the hold his magic had held him in and Izzy offered him a rag for the blood dripping freely from his nose. 

As he swiped at the offending mess, he expected a rush of images, perfectly formed answers to all the questions each and every one of them had, including himself. Instead, he had a panting warlock of a boyfriend announce, “The memories should begin unspooling now. It may take minutes or hours before he sees anything other than conjecture.”

Jace made a face. “I thought, or hoped, really...”

Izzy stopped him and soothed, “We all did, but we all also understand how complex the mind can be. Anything is better than nothing, right? At least now there is a chance at information whereas before we had none.”

“So we do what? Sit and wait?” Jace asked. Those were two things he was never very good at.

Alec shook his head and waited for the world to settle. “Patrol,” he ordered. “Teams of at least four as they haven’t made a move against that many at once yet. Start near the water’s edge and look for clues as well as people. Report in to both myself and Ops every thirty minutes. We’ll call if anything productive... unwinds.” He made a vague motion with his hand, not quite certain how the whole memory thing would work, but figured he managed to get his point across.

Jace stood with a nod, Isabelle hesitantly following at his heels. Before she left, she turned to Magnus and said, “Please stop him from doing anything stupid before he’s ready?”

Magnus put on an expression of mock affront. “This is Alexander,” he pointed out.

She let a hint of a smile grace her painted lips when she agreed, “I know, but try your best anyway?”

Alec would have been offended if he had the energy to be. Well, that, and he knew Izzy had said far worse about him in the past, usually to his face. He settled for flopping against the couch and resting his head against the back of it.

“Tired?” Magnus guessed as he approached.

“Exhausted, but there’s no way I’m going to rest until we either have answers or our people back,” he admitted.

Magnus stepped around to the back of the couch and began to massage Alec’s aching temples. His fingertips seemed to find every pinpoint of pressure and release them one by one. “You need to rest,” Magnus chided. Before Alec could protest, he added, “I know you worry about your people, as do I. But you are no good to them in the state you are in right now. Rest. Relax. It will help the memories as well as help you to be prepared when the time comes.”

“I just wish... Hey! Did we try tracking where those pants I was wearing came from?” He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before, but it was a possibility and he was not going to ignore a single one of those. It was also a possibility that his mind was wandering, his inability to hold on to a coherent thought amongst all the ones circling about blatant to even him.

Magnus did not stop his ministrations when he answered, “Yes, we did, or at least I did. Nothing. Though, as you were found near the water it stands to reason there is a body of it between here and where you were, which would limit the tracking abilities.” He hummed, fingers still a constant motion, before he asked, “Do you know if you swam or simply kept to the water’s edge during your escape?”

Alec closed his eyes and tried to picture it. If it was after the escape, after he was away from the magical influence, he should have some recollection unless the spell was one that endured. He remembered the splash of water on his face, the deep rooted ache in his muscles from pulling against the natural flow of the waves for too long when he was already weakened, the slick suck of the mud when he dug his fingers into it and tried to drag himself to shore. 

“Swam, I think,” he replied. He lost himself in Magnus’ touch for a moment, letting the pain ebb away in hopes it would leave relief in its wake. Relief from the aches, relief from the injuries, relief from the lack of memories, all of which would hopefully lead to the relief of finding the others before it was too late.

He saw water, and lights reflected off of the dark murk of it. There was the scent of exhaust, a vibration that he wanted to instinctually duck down and hide from. Weedy tendrils tickled his skin and he sank as low as he could while still treading water. Long strands of not-grass, a bulk that may have been a buoy, the wake from something too far away skimming by. He tried to backtrack further, before the exhaustion and the squelch of mud, but found only darkness with the occasional brightness to blind him.

There was something though. A shadow that coalesced into something more. A bridge, no, a dock, waves lapping at its supports. He had half expected to find a massive freighter like what Valentine had used, even though he knew that was supposedly not only decommissioned but destroyed piece by piece by the Clave. The dock was too simple, too shallow for that, the wood old and crumbling and in no way able to take the weight and torque of such a vessel. Behind it wound an overgrown path and behind that was something large and looming.

His eyes snapped open and he feared that these images would fade just like the ones before. A few of the details became hazy, but the majority of it, the key points still remained. Magnus had a tablet for him, but it was the wrong type. Paper and pencil versus the electronic and so he asked, frantic with hope, “Do you have a computer? Wait, is mine still here? I need to access the archives.”

Magnus pushed the paper back in his hands and bade, “Take notes while you can. I’ll see if you left yours here, though I do question if you will still have access given your absence.”

He was, of course, correct. It made sense, standard protocol and all that to not allow remote access to potential secrets after being in enemy hands, but it was still frustrating. He stood and winced when his ankle still protested the weight as it had been far less than the time he had allotted himself to heal. Hell, he honestly didn’t know how much time had passed since Magnus tried to undo the spell let alone how long he had been lost in just that tiny bit of memory. He stumbled to the bedroom and found a spare set of gear to change into. He discarded the pajama bottoms and pulled on the tactical pants before he rooted around for some socks.

“Where do you think you are going?” Magnus asked mildly.

“I need access to the resources of the Institute,” he explained. “The wards and scans will verify it is me and I should be able to override the lockout.”

“And you don’t suppose anyone will doubt you?” 

Alec shook his head. “Jace would have already mentioned something when he grabbed reinforcements, and I’m assuming you’re not letting me out of your sight any time soon, so I’ll have one of the most powerful warlocks in the world at my side swearing it’s me.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at that, but Alec could tell it was just for show. “You seem pretty confident I’m just going to let you do this versus keeping you here,” he pointed out. His latest shiny jacket appeared laid out for him on the bed and he slid into it even as he spoke.

Alec couldn’t find his boots but found a spare pair of sneakers and tugged them on and quickly laced them. “Lives are at risk,” he insisted. He stood on admittedly wobbly legs and added, “Plus, the Institute is nearly as protected as here with the added bonus of dozens of Shadowhunters. You can portal me to that safety and not have to worry about me sneaking out and being on the streets alone or-”

Magnus stopped that line of thought with a quick kiss. “I do hate that you know me so well,” he muttered before he opened a portal.


	2. Chapter 2

Alec stepped through and managed about six additional shuffles before he was set upon by what had to be half of the control room. “It’s me, scan me if you want to, but give me access so we can save our people,” he announced as he approached the staging area.

He placed his hand on the access panel and knew it was far more than light that ran over him. He typed in a security code and then an override and then an administrative code known only to him and was very thankful those memories at least had not been taken. He was also grateful no one noticed the secondary action of literally inscribing a specific rune with his hands over the console while he did everything else. The combination was enough for the system to let him in, even as he knew someone in some remote shadowy corner somewhere was probably going to log his every keystroke for days.

A chair was shoved in his direction and he glared at it, only to briefly glance up and see no less than four people glare right back and look pointedly at it. “You’re hurt,” Eric accused as he held the chair in place for him to sit upon. He damn near groped the bright scrape that ran over the back of Alec’s hand and wrist as if the limp he still had wasn’t enough. The wound wasn’t bleeding, but the skin was raw and stung with the bite of air upon it.

“Yes,” Alec agreed as he tucked the offending appendage further away. He continued to type, to pull files based on the notes he had made earlier out of fear he would forget just what had him so worked up in the first place. A stele was placed next to his side even as he heard several others remove theirs from their holsters. He shook his head and continued with a mumbled, “It won’t work.”

He could see Magnus gesture in his peripheral, a cutting motion of his hand to stop the surge of questions before they began. He also saw the raised eyebrows and the way more than a single Shadowhunter pressed their lips together, possibly in anger. They knew there were very few times the healing runes didn’t work and none of them were good or positive experiences. Either they had been overused or they had been cursed and he swore he could feel their eyes bore into him as each tried to decide which was more likely.

“Do you actually remember what happened?” Raj asked, more than a hint of doubt to his tone.

Alec didn’t bother to look away from the screen. He had pulled up all harbors and inlets that could maybe lead to the muddy almost stream he had been found in and started to scan for what he knew had to be there. “Parts of it,” he admitted. “The rest is either missing or still unwinding.”

“Benefits of dating a warlock,” Magnus explained so that he didn’t have to.

Raj made a face, never the biggest fan of any Downworlder, but Eric and the others nodded readily enough. “Are those parts enough to find the others?” he asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Alec replied distractedly. He had overhead views of several potential locations, but needed something more, something lower. He hadn’t been flying, he had been crouched or crawling or ducking or hiding. He had no idea what the top of the stronghold had looked like, only the sides, and only part of the way up. He tried rotating the images, frustrated when he couldn’t get what he wanted.

Magnus, as always, picked up on those frustrations. “These three?” he confirmed. The locations were front and center with all of their facts and figures detailed beside them. He turned to Eric and asked, “Do you have any street level images? Google them if you have to.”

“Not exactly a street anywhere around there,” Raj griped, but even he grabbed a screen and started a search.

“These two as well,” Alec said as he tossed two more locations up onto his own display. He sat back and rubbed his eyes for a moment, and then his temples where the dull ache still took up residence.

A mug and two small pills were placed in front of him and he made a face. “Tea and ibuprofen only,” Angela told him as she pushed them closer. “If runes and magic aren’t viable, go for the Mundane methods.”

He rarely took such things, but was sorely tempted. He caught the way Magnus did a quiet check and subtly nodded in confirmation that nothing untoward was being attempted. “Thanks,” he grunted and took them as directed. The tea was strong and sweet and possibly exactly what he needed right at that moment.

She also smacked a roll of gauze down, right next to his injured wrist. The damage was smaller than when he had started, but not by much and he knew it would be a while before it fully healed. “At the very least, you can’t tear it open more,” she pointed out, and he tried not to make another face. She had been trained as a sort of field medic, he knew this and appreciated this. She was one of the few Shadowhunters to learn such skills and used them as needed on their kind and Downworlders like. He didn’t have the energy to fight, not when he knew there were more important things to protest, so he held up his hand and let her have her way. 

“Why didn’t your ‘beneficial warlock’ help with that?” Raj asked.

Alec finally turned away from his work to level a glare in his direction. “Magnus is the only reason I have even a partial memory of what happened and where we might find our people. He doesn’t need to waste his magic on doing the job of a bandaid when there’s about to be a far larger battle ahead.”

“That said...” Magnus started, fingers raised to snap.

Alec reached out and physically stopped the action. “We don’t know what happened to the others yet, what happened to Clary and you can’t tell me you’re not attached after all these years,” he pointed out. “If it’s taking me this long and they only had me for three days? What about the ones they’ve had for eight or even twelve?” He watched as Magnus lowered his hand, and his head, in acceptance of those truths.

“They only held me for four,” Jeremiah chimed in. 

“Maybe it was your winning personality,” Eric poked at him. The two usually worked as a team and he remembered how bereft the other had been without him.

“Still can’t get my thoughts straight about what happened,” Jeremiah groused. He turned to Magnus and asked, “I’m not asking you to waste your magic on me, we’re going to need it like Lightwood said, but do you think this is permanent?”

“Once we find the source we may be able to reverse it with the correct counterspell, but without that...” Magnus admitted. He hummed in the way that Alec knew meant he was planning something, followed by a pause that meant something likely entirely unrelated crossed his mind that was probably equally important. He was only slightly surprised when Magnus asked, “I’m assuming you have a list of who was taken, who has gone missing, and for how long?”

Angela pulled up the information on a separate screen while Alec was torn between the need to continue his own research and curiosity as to just what pieces the warlock had put together. He typed in one last search criteria and let the system run before he turned to ask, “What is it?”

“Something I very much hope I am incorrect about,” Magnus non-answered.

Before Alec could even huff, Angela pointed out, “Only the men were returned.”

Magnus shook his head. “Not entirely true. Sarah was kept, but her packmate Jessica was not. Both were taken together. Same for Elizabeth versus Janine from your own Institute.”

Alec cut him off by holding up his hand. He had a sick feeling that he knew the common factor, but did not want it voiced, not yet, not if his people weren’t going to do something stupid when they found who had arranged all of this. He had been there when Janine had been attacked by an enoche demon and had seen both the wound and the scar tissue that had remained. She had survived, but at a cost that very few knew about and he had the feeling she would prefer to keep it that way.

Magnus did not question him, but stopped at least verbally putting the pieces together. He may have even been the warlock they had called in to help heal her at the time, Alec honestly couldn’t recall. Instead, his eye was caught by the flash of his screen announcing that it had narrowed down his criteria to precisely two places.

“Neither are boats,” Magnus pointed out. Alec wasn’t sure if he was questioning the validity of the memories or not. They were still unspooling, true, but he just felt it was right. He was found in water. Water hindered tracking. Water surrounded more than boats.

“Dock. Grass. Path. A way in and a way out that no one would question. Water.” He recited the obvious, to convince himself as well as the others. It was closer to land than he had thought but, then again, it was a fair distance from where he was found. If he had taken a less direct route, tried to avoid a search party of his captors, or even simply had gotten confused along the way, the locations would still be plausible.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture it, tried to find one more detail to give them the key they so desperately needed. He saw the water again, and the muck. He saw the path and the massive wall behind it. There were very few windows, but there was a door, massive and rusty and just barely ajar. Behind it there was metal, scaffolding of some sort. Pulleys and chains and ropes. And the glint of something more.

He opened them to find far too many expectant gazes. “That one,” he announced, pointing to the second option.

“But that’s not even...” Raj started, but stopped when he pulled up the full specs for the location.

“It would be a very effective location,” Magnus concurred.

“Call Jace and Izzy?” Alec requested. After a pause, he added, “Call Raphael and Luke as well. It was members of their clans that were taken and they may be able to keep collateral damage to a minimum.” He needed to go find replacement gear beyond a pair of tactical pants and a t-shirt. Well, that, and a way to convince them all that he was going with. He knew there would be protests. He also knew enough of the Shadowhunters knew how to follow a damned order. The issue would be the very two people he just requested as well as Magnus, but there was absolutely no way those three were not going to be involved.

He pushed himself to his feet and did his very best to hide any lingering limp as he headed to his room to gather what he needed, knowing just how many sets of eyes were watching him. He made it without incident and sat down on the edge of his rarely used bed with a sigh that was only partially a grunt. He was tempted, so very tempted, to activate his stamina rune to get through what lay ahead. He just had no idea if it would be a help or a hindrance given everything else.

He reached for a spare pair of boots and wished he was surprised when Magnus let himself in without the pretense of a knock. “I’d say you don’t need to go, but...” his lover started.

“But I really do,” Alec finished for him.

He shoved his feet into the boots and started on the laces, only to have his hands slapped away when Magnus knelt at his feet to do it for him. “I’d also ask you to be careful, but that would just be silly,” he commented as he tightened them to add extra support to the still healing ankle. 

There was a little extra rush of warmth with the action and most of the lingering pain faded. “Magnus...” he chided. He needed to save his magic for those who truly needed it, not for someone who was nearly there on their own.

“Your wrist is a battle scar, a limp is a sign of weakness,” was the only response he got. He had no idea if the sign was to the enemy, or to the men and women who would follow him into the inevitable fight. “As far as they know, your mystical runes fixed you right up, or at least mostly so,” he finished as he double-knotted the ties.

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed. He stood and appreciated the fact he could place his full weight with no pain and gave him a quick peck on the cheek in thanks.

“I’m also going to be by your side and you don’t even have to pretend to be surprised at that,” Magnus pointed out. He waved his fingers and a stele appeared on the bed where Alec had been. “Activate what you need while the others aren’t watching,” he suggested. 

Alec picked it up, but hesitated. “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ in there?”

“There is a butt, and a fabulous one at that,” Magnus smirked, but became serious again soon enough. “The cost is that, once we are done, once we have everyone back here safe if not sound, you take the time you truly need to rest. No paperwork or reports or meetings. Sleep. Food. Maybe a bath or foot massage. Rest.”

Alec stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his lover, let him take some of his weight for just a moment before he pulled back. “You know I can’t promise that. As soon as this crisis is over, there will be another. There always is.”

“But the next one is not yours to deal with,” Magnus said in a near plea. “Delegate. Rest. Tell the Clave to call Vermont. I just got you back and...”

Alec cupped his face with the hand not holding the stele and rested their foreheads together. “How about I promise to try?” he asked.

“It’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?” Magnus sighed, breath a warm tickle against his face.

Before Alec could answer, the door burst open again, this time letting in the whirlwind of his parabatai. “You are not going!” Jace announced as if it were a forgone conclusion.

Alec reluctantly let go of his lover to turn to face his surrogate brother, and found that he had unsurprisingly brought his sister as backup. “Pretty sure that, as Head of the Institute, I get to decide that,” he pointed out mildly.

“Alec...” Izzy started, but was cut off by Jace’s declaration of, “You’re injured. They will know this as they’re the ones who did this to you!” 

He wasn’t sure if Jace felt it through their bond or just assumed given his state the last time they saw each other, but issue was not up for debate as far as he was concerned. “Close the door,” he ordered. He knew there were far more sets of ears in the hallway than there first appeared.

Jace opened his mouth to continue his rant, but Isabelle did as requested. She even scribbled quick runes to make sure the room was now soundproof and locked. She crossed her arms in front of her and demanded, “Talk.”

Even though he knew time was of the essence, he took a deep breath before he plowed into what could very easily be used as another reason why he should stay behind. “I remember,” he started. He licked his lips and closed his eyes for only the briefest of seconds so as to not let the images overwhelm him. “I remember so much and I know it’s probably only half of it. I remember waking up there. I remembered being tied down. I remember what they did to me. I remember the injections and I remember the samples they took and what they did to get them. I remember how many times they activated my runes and how many times they needed to. I remember... Enough to know I will not let our people stay there for one damned minute extra. I will not let them do to another, do to Clary or anyone else, what they did to me.”

He felt a hand on his wrist, small and cool, and he resisted the urge to pull away. He looked down to his sister, who reached up and swept away a tear he didn’t remember authorizing. “Alec,” she asked gently. “What were they trying to do?”

He turned his head away, unable to face her, unable to face Magnus, when he admitted, “Make more of us.”

They had talked as if he wasn’t even there, so confident in their warlock to erase his memories. They were blunt about what they wanted and how to get it, their methods unsound at best and outright dangerous at worst. He’d say that they didn’t care about their subjects, but there were some they cared about very, very much. Those were the ones under extra protections, those were the ones that they needed to get to first.

Izzy held his hand again, and he used the touch to draw him back to reality. He let his eyes trace her horrified face and saw the hint of doubt when she asked, “Why would they want to do that? It makes no sense.”

“Why take the Downworlders then?” Jace agreed.

Alec swallowed the bile that threatened to make an appearance before he replied, “They want to continue where Valentine left off, both with the creation of Shadowhunters and the experiments to best defeat the Downworlders. They don’t have the bloodlines and they don’t have the Mortal Cup, but they have the memory of everything he promised. Some of the people he converted, they were doctors and nurses in their former lives. They have the medical know how and now they have the magic to power their beliefs.”

“Why would a warlock help them?” Jace asked, which was a fair point.

He was forced to admit he wasn’t sure. “Unless they have something on him? Blackmail? Some warlocks are young enough to still have the Mundane family members they grew up with that could be threatened.”

“Some warlocks would sacrifice themselves even if it were not for a blood relation,” Magnus murmured and Alec offered him a look of apology that was waved off as unnecessary.

Isabelle was far more the scientist than he would ever be, and he could see the wheels turning in her head. “Surrogates to carry the children, samples from Shadowhunters to try to limit the rejection, experiments to determine weaknesses to try to breed out. Their own grouping wouldn’t be large enough to have the genetic diversity needed without outside input. They would have to be planning for a long game, unless their warlock can suddenly manipulate time,” she reasoned.

This was the part Alec had been dreading, especially considering his parabatai’s relationship with one of the taken, not to mention his own. “I don’t think they’re just using surrogates,” he admitted. Female Shadowhunters had not been returned though their male counterparts had; it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

He could feel the rage through the bond like a physical wave when Jace growled, “Clary.”

“We will get her back,” Magnus promised. The glamour of his eyes flickered with his words as he struggled to get his own emotions under control. While he had not actually raised Clary, he had been in her life for far longer than anyone else gathered. Mix in his own guilt for what he had done to her at her mother’s behest, and he had a fairly strong drive to protect her.

Izzy’s phone beeped and he realized he had yet to replace his own. Instead, she announced, “Raphael and Luke have arrived, with backup.”

“Go greet them,” he ordered. “I’ll be there in a moment to fill them in. Find me a bow?”

She darted a look between him and Magnus, but nodded and left to do just that, Jace following to give them the moment they needed. He waited for the door to close again before he lost the rigid posture he had been holding, his breath a harsh pant. He needed those memories, his people and the people of the Downworlder clans needed them, but he would be paying for them for a very long time.

There were hands on his shoulders, a tug to bring him closer, a strength to stop him from flinching or running away. “Alexander, you don’t have to do this,” Magnus whispered. 

“I really do,” he corrected.

Magnus hugged him tighter. “What you find there, it may trigger...”

“Enough anger to burn the place to the ground? Kind of counting on it,” he cut him off, purposefully misinterpreting where he had been going with doubtlessly carefully created phrasing. He paused, searching for the right words before he blurted, “What you’re going to see there...”

“Is something you endured,” Magnus said. “Something you are stronger for, and that strength is what’s going to help us save the others.”

He didn’t have time for platitudes and he didn’t have the energy to argue, not when it was about to be needed elsewhere. He pulled back, almost surprised when Magnus let him. “I really feel the need to get out some aggression, maybe do a lot of violence,” he admitted.

Magnus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well then, it’s a good thing we are about to have quite a few targets for precisely that,” he chirped.

Alec took a breath and then activated multiple runes, amongst them both stamina and strength. Magnus said nothing about the choices, and instead simply held up a spare holster with a seraph blade already inserted and a jacket that damn near glowed with the extra protections added to it. Alec made the mistake of glancing towards the small mirror in his room while Magnus sorted out the buckles, and rather regretted it. There were still shadows under his eyes, still fine lines of healing red at his jaw and at his hairline, still molted bruises made more worrisome for how close they were to his deflect rune. He was too pale, too slouched, too weak. But he was going if it was the last thing he did. 

It was a damned good thing that he was the Head of the Institute because he would have never let one of his people into the field in the state he was currently in.

Raphael and Luke had brought about a half dozen people each, wary based upon previous experiences but the drive to find their missing members overwhelmed the urge to back out entirely. He brought them to his office with Magnus, mainly because his boyfriend refused to leave his side. Jace and Isabelle held the others at bay and stopped anyone from either side from doing anything especially stupid.

“Sit down before you fall down,” Raphael told him as soon as the door was closed.

Luke shook his head when Alec refused. “He’s juiced up on rune magic, not going to happen,” he pointed out. Then, to Alec himself, he warned, “You’re going to crash and crash hard when this is all said and done.”

“But that’s later, not now,” Alec replied. They both accepted it for what it was: a refusal to back down. It was also the Shadowhunter in him refusing to look weak in front of Downworlders, even as he knew the two before him were far more of friends than simple allies. He had a feeling they would understand when he laid all the cards on the table.

So he did. He still didn’t have everything, but he gave them all that he had, every pesky detail he could dredge up that might help. There were things he would prefer never to share, personal details and specifics of what was done to him, and he kept those parts far more vague, but knew they got the gist of just how bad it had been. By the end, Raphael’s fangs were on full display and Luke’s eyes glowed green as he tried to control his inner wolf. “Our people...” Raphael seethed.

“Are going to be rescued and it’s going to happen tonight,” Alec swore. “But you need to decide how much you are going to tell the rest of your clans, and how best to use them to get everyone out of there.”

“Some things, such as the abuse each party has undergone, are going to be undeniable,” Magnus said as diplomatically as possible, even though he clearly seethed beneath the surface. He knew the men gathered well enough to drop some pretenses, even as he knew emotions would get them nowhere at the given moment, and Alec appreciated the attempt at calm. “Others, such as the violations for which there may be no outward signs, we must be aware that those who have had to endure them may not want such things to become public knowledge.”

Luke sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Look, I get what you’re saying and it’s a delicate situation,” he agreed. “I think we can all read between the lines at this point, so let’s forgo the cryptic and say it for what it is: the intent was forced pregnancy and it is entirely possible this intent has been carried out on some of the subjects.”

“People,” Alec corrected. “They are people. Shadowhunter, vampire, or werewolf, they are people. If you want to be blunt, they are people who have been raped, either figuratively or literally. Which is why we are going to get them out of there before it happens again.”

His voice wavered, but no one called him on it. He refused to look at Raphael or Luke, couldn’t take the pity he knew he would see in their eyes. He could feel the way Magnus hovered at his side and wasn’t sure he could face that either. 

“We keep this to family then,” Raphael announced. “We three go in with you, Blondie, and Isabelle. Everybody else makes the hole for us to get through and then mans the perimeter until we say otherwise. Wolves and vamps might want to take it out on you Shadowhunters, especially if Valentine’s crew is involved the way you think. Let us talk them down before you get near them.”

“If the captured want it known what happened, that’s their call, but it’s also doubtful,” Luke chimed in. “If the rescue teams discover it on their own...”

“We get the victims away from the ensuing bloodbath,” Magnus finished for him.

“Unless they want to join in,” Raphael shrugged. At the looks he received, he defended himself with, “I know my people. Caged, tortured, probably starving? If they want a taste, I’m not entirely resigned to stopping them.”

“And you think they will stop at their captors and not take it out on their rescuers?” Luke scoffed.

Magnus raised a well-manicured hand between them both and cut off the ensuing debate with, “Let’s just... hope for the best and plan for the worst?”

“You going to knock everyone out like that time in Queens?” Raphael guessed with a smirk. To the others, he clarified, “Three block radius, full battle. I come in and their all sleeping like babies.”

“Save that in case we need it; we don’t need to violate the victims any more than what they’ve already gone through,” Alec advised, and received reluctant nods in response.

That sorted, they gathered their teams and headed out. No one protested the arrangements, at least not vocally and not where they could be heard by their leaders. He was sure there was more than a single disagreement to the plan but, thankfully, everyone was willing to put the captured first above their own want for intel. He fully expected something to blow up in their faces eventually, but hopefully that would be down the line when he actually had the energy to deal with it. For now, the focus was on bringing their people home.

“Did they actively search out the most difficult place to find?” Jace griped. Isabelle gave him a look as though that should be obvious, but Alec knew the two were actually slightly impressed with the setup.

The place was originally built to repair freighters. From the outside, it looked like a large warehouse directly on the waterfront. The dock led to a small stretch of land and the path to a door on the side, just like he remembered. Inside told a a different story though. A cement walkway lined three sides and held scaffolding and pulleys and all sorts of repair equipment. The fourth side was a retractable doorway that opened to the waterway. The center was filled with that waterway, was a part of it, really. One large enclosed body of water, which held a freighter that was far smaller than Valentine’s and that very carefully did not touch any sides. It was surrounded by water and therefore limited tracking capabilities. It was covered by a roof and walls and therefore hidden as to what it held via normal visual search methods. It was actually relatively accessible in multiple ways, if you ignored the collapsing bridge and dilapidated roadway that had been cordoned off miles before. 

The place screamed abandoned, screamed that nothing was there, which is precisely why it held everything they needed.

The vampires took the far side and the wolves took the near. The Shadowhunters took the back and all three monitored the front from various vantage points. They entered the facility only, made enough noise to draw out some of the troops, and let the fully informed infiltration team slip in relatively unnoticed.

Magnus refused to leave Alec’s side and he knew neither Jace nor Izzy were going to go far, but he had hoped to get Luke and Raphael to make the most of their enhanced senses and spread out. When the true scope of the boat itself became apparent, they decided to take it level by level, quietly enough for the rest of the place to only think there was something going on outside and not right over their heads. The bridge with its engine controls was the first thing they destroyed, not willing to take the chance that the boat may break free and escape to untraceable waters. After that, the primary concern was the control room: aside from unlocking any security secrets, they hoped it would provide them with a definitive answer as to where their people were.

The answer was nearly as unpleasant as he had feared.

The werewolves were kept in cages on the lower levels, the vampires in smaller ones that hung from above. There were bloodstained tables and discarded tools as well as all sorts of recording equipment on that level. There were also locked rooms that lined the sides of multiple levels. Those were a little nicer, at least by comparison. There were beds in those, things that roughly resembled sanitary conditions. There were also other rooms though, and it was those that made him nearly physically ill. Set up like a combination of hospital rooms and laboratories. Glass vials and temperature controlled storage and rows upon rows of carefully labeled samples. Beds with stirrups as well as restraints, trays of tools still so carefully sealed and sterile.

He closed his eyes against the images, only to be bombarded with the same rooms from a different view. He was the one held down, strapped into place while they filled their little vials and documented anything and everything they found.

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find Jace there. His parabatai raised his eyebrows in silent question, but backed off immediately at the unvoiced assurance that he could and would get through this.

They scrolled through video feeds and he swore he saw Magnus pocket something out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing for now trusting it would be revealed if and when necessary. It was probably just more data on the findings but, knowing the other man, it was entirely possible it was means to track those not currently present as well. Once they had an idea of just how many people they would be up against as well as just where the controls and keys were for all of the varying kinds of cells, they prepared to make their move.

“Isabelle goes nowhere alone,” Raphael growled. He had barely been keeping the fangs at bay since they entered the ship and had spoken less than a dozen words up until that point.

As expected, Izzy was not down with that plan. “I can take care of myself!” she insisted. She was the one who had managed to near singlehandedly silently secure the bridge, as well as discover and knock out someone hiding in the control room. 

“Iz,” Jace cut in. “We’re not talking about your fighting prowess as I’m sure you could kick most of our asses, especially Alec’s right about now. They are specifically looking for Shadowhunter women for this little plan of theirs and they currently outnumber us at least four to one.”

“We’re pairing off anyway,” Alec announced, ending the argument. He had a brief recollection of some horror movie Clary had made them watch and how ninety percent of the absurdity could have been resolved if the participants had just stuck together. “No one goes anywhere completely alone. We watch each other’s backs and we end this.”

They decided it was best to pair Downworlder with Shadowhunter on the off chance whoever they freed took offense to their rescuer, or at least to their rescuers’ supposed affiliation. No one challenged Magnus staying with Alec and Jace left with Luke to avoid any protest from Raphael. Not that they even went far. The three teams intended to stay close until they could no longer do so.

A rough facsimile of labs were first, if you could call them such. Closer up, they looked more like a cafeteria and maybe a lounge or break room converted to house random technology and what were clearly seen as trophies. Unfortunately, or possibly fortunately, none were in use at the given time. There was a table with fangs on it, sans their true owners, and something that looked suspiciously like a once fluffy tail pinned up as a prize. There were also four of Valentine’s conversions nearby, but they managed to disable and disarm them before they could sound any alarm. Samples disappeared with a wave of Magnus’ hand and Isabelle keyed the computers to upload their data to a remote server to sort out any hidden virus or kill protocols prior to wiping them. If any of the Valentine crew survived this op, they would be starting from scratch, with severely depleted reserves, and with their enemy knowing precisely what they planned.

It was the first level of locked rooms that gave them trouble. Apparently they were not all for holding hostages, but some were used as dormitories for the crew. A crew that came storming out to take on the intruders. 

Many were outside to fight already, but there were enough to make it interesting, and possibly a little difficult actually. The dim lighting formed shadows to lurk in and the crew that knew the ship inside and out at this point used that to their advantage. Two surged at Izzy while she was already distracted by another, and managed to knock her against the guard rail that circled the open area below. She went up and over, whip slicing out to catch herself on the way down, followed quickly by Raphael who promised that he had her.

Unfortunately, that alerted both those in cages as well as those guarding those cages to their presence and there were far more guarding the captured than had been sleeping in their rooms.

Izzy was on her feet, surrounded by the remnants of the gory experiments, Raphael at her side and at least a dozen Shadowhunters loyal to Valentine’s cause pressing in.

A memory surged, skin marked with very few runes and everyone who taunted him wearing precisely the same ones in precisely the same place. “They only know about iratze and stamina,” he shouted down to her. He knew they knew about nourishment as well from his own treatment, but he also knew a full belly wasn’t going to win a fight.

He saw Raphael cover her while she activated far more runes than that, and then he saw Jace torn between helping his sister versus finding his missing girlfriend. He turned to Magnus with a very bad idea on the tip of his tongue, only to find he didn’t need to be the one to voice it.

“Can you unlock the cages?” Izzy shouted as she dodged an attack. “We need all the help we can get if we’re going to get the injured out of here.” He knew it would save her time if she didn’t have to do each one individually with her stele.

Jace and Alec held off another four and Luke a fifth while Magnus summoned the energy to do precisely that. He heard Raphael’s threat of, “Any of you, vamp or pup, lay a fang or paw on her, and I leave what’s left of you here to rot,” and then he heard the distinct clang of metal as cage after cage unlocked and swung open.

“This should end poorly,” Jace muttered as he took down someone dumb enough to get close.

“I should go handle the wolves,” Luke suggested. “You three good here?” At Alec’s nod, he cleared the railing, transforming mid-air to join the fight below and ignoring the roughly hewn plan they had only partially paid attention to in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

Good was possibly not the best descriptor, but they made due. The parabatai were near insurmountable in battle as they worked as one, and clearly none of Valentine’s crew had ever seen such a thing before. He may have not been at his best but he had both Jace and Magnus to cover for any weakness that slipped through and, soon enough, they had finished off their attackers.

They went room by room after that, and did the same when they reached the next level. There were a couple of stragglers but, more importantly, there were also two of their own people alive and relatively well aside from being chained in place. Freed now, Alec wished he had brought spare blades for them as they were more than willing to join the fight despite being barefoot and in thin scrubs, even if they were not one hundred percent certain just what that fight was. They were Shadowhunters, through and through, and he was in no way surprised by their reactions. He gave Ramona his own blade as he still had his bow, and Jules admitted she would have been useless with one anyway as three of her fingers were still healing from what were either breaks or severe dislocations.

“They took offense to something I did,” she said as she ducked behind Jace. He waved his stele over her runes, but they really were not expecting much from them given Alec’s own state when he was found.

“What’d you do?” he asked, rising to the bait.

“Stabbed one of them in the eye with the syringe they were trying to use on me,” she smirked. Her blonde hair was matted with dried blood and she favored her left side, but she looked as though she didn’t regret a single moment of it. “Their warlock wanted to wipe my memory so I’d behave, but they wanted me to remember the pain part of it. Screwed them both over now, didn’t it?” She had already admitted that was pretty much the only part she did actually remember, not certain how she got to where she was, or even when, and the same was true of Ramona.

That caught Magnus’ attention. “Do you know where this warlock is? Or who it is?”

She shook her head and he caught the subtle way she braced herself against the wall when she did so. “Sorry,” she apologized. “All I can tell you is that he was male, not much taller than me, brown hair, and should be walking with a limp right about now unless they let him heal his balls.”

“Were they in control of him, or was he a willing participant?” Magnus asked as they moved on past another empty room.

Jules hesitated at that. “I’m not sure, but I think they had something on him.”

“He kept asking after someone, wanted to make sure ‘she’ was safe,” Ramona chimed in, face scrunched up as she tried her best to recall something remotely helpful. It had been several hours since her own last encounter, so she had at least that to draw from. She hadn’t fared much better than Jules with her arms and thin clothing spattered with things he wasn’t ready to identify yet, but she could at least hold a weapon and seemed very happy to do so.

The next room held a third victim. Elizabeth was strapped down to a gurney, equipment everywhere. If he were to guess, they had interrupted a procedure, hopefully one that never reached completion. Of course, that begged the question of just where her caretaker was, something he discovered when a man in a lab coat burst forward, an older version of a seraph blade in hand. They made short work of him and he may have turned his back while Ramona took out more than a little bit of rage on the remains.

Of course turning his back meant that he turned to face Elizabeth. The way that she was tied down, arms and legs secured with leather cuffs, a strap across her throat, gag in place, brought forward a surge of memories that he felt damn near helpless against. He could feel the leather on his skin, the constriction as he struggled to breath, knew that he would be lost in it if he dared so much as to blink. It was because he refused to close his eyes for even that fraction of a second that he saw it, saw Elizabeth surge upwards and try to attack the second the restraints were released.

Magnus froze her in place but Alec waved him off and he released the spell. “Shh, Liz, it’s us. It’s really us and not Valentine’s playthings. We’re going to get you out of here,” he soothed. 

She stopped mid-lurch and blinked herself back to reality, fully took in just who surrounded her. “They were going to... they were...”

“Us too,” Jules assured her, broken hand held up in supplication. 

“We’ve got one over here,” Ramona pointed out. She tossed her auburn hair out of her eyes, not seeming to mind its new accessories of blood and what might have been shreds of a once white lab coat. “Want to stab him a few times? It will make you feel much better.”

Liz choked back a sob that was half tears and half delirium. She wiped a hand across her face and left a trail of blood and possibly snot behind. She turned back to Alec then, saw Jace behind him. “Where’s the other half of your team?” she asked warily.

“Izzy’s down making new friends with the recently released,” Jace replied. He cocked his head to the side before he admitted, “We were kind of hoping you could tell us where-”

“Clary! I think I know where she is!” she shouted suddenly. She tried to push herself up and off the gurney but her legs wouldn’t hold her own weight. “Drugged me,” she admitted sheepishly. “More than once, but I think the latest round was to keep me down while they...” She caught herself on the edge of the thin mattress, body and words both failing at once as she began to shake.

Jace was there to support her, even if his motives were not completely altruistic. “Where’s Clary? Where did they take her?” he cajoled once he had her braced against the gurney and somewhat stable.

“They were going to... They knew she was Valentine’s daughter, said she was going to get ‘pure Shadowhunter’ for her ‘first time’ and were going to prep her. That was maybe an hour ago? Maybe less? Things keep getting hazy. They were talking while they tied me down. They thought they could get her to join them, that she was like her father,” Elizabeth rattled off. She started to grope at Jace, who raised an eyebrow until she pleaded, “By the Angel, please say you have your damned stele. I’m not going out there as dead weight and I sure as hell am not staying here.”

“I have it,” he assured her as he handed it over. “It just hasn’t worked much on any of you.”

Magnus waved a hand to draw attention to himself. “If I may? I believe I can get you further down the path of healing than your little magic wand,” he offered.

Liz looked tempted, but Ramona shook her head. “There’s others far worse off than us,” she explained. A haunted look passed over her features and she expanded, “There was a wolf... They paraded around what had to be part of its pelt and I think the poor thing was still alive. Kept transforming between human and pup, trying to find a way out.”

Jules shivered at the mental image and Alec didn’t blame her. “We were at least worthy in their minds. Shadowhunters over Downworlders. We had a purpose and a chance at being swayed to their cause. The others? Not so much.” She spat the declaration like a curse. She had always been a firm believer that Downworlders needed guidance so as to not let their baser side control them, but he had also seen her bodily throw herself in front of one to save him from an attack by a lesser demon.

Liz tried to get her feet under herself again, only to nearly fall right back down. “Look, if you can get enough of this crap out of my system so I’m mobile, that’d be great. Bonus if you can get us some more weapons to take these bastards out. Extra bonus if we can do this all and get to Fray before they move her now that they knew you’re here. They really had a thing for her, probably jonesing for her dad.”

Magnus let clouds of blue drift from his fingertips to surround Elizabeth, and Alec noticed wisps wrap around Jules’ injured hand as well. It wasn’t a perfect solution, and he wasn’t going all out and healing them completely, but the extra push might make the difference when it came down to it.

“Thank you,” Liz said when she could stand on her own two feet again. Beside her, Jules flexed a hand that was slowly returning to a shade lighter than black and blue. “I may not be a friend of the Downworlders, and the Angel knows Fray and I aren’t besties, but no one deserves to be treated like this. No one.”

Jules let Elizabeth take the downed Circle member’s weapon, grabbing another one for herself from one of the fallen men outside the door. Suitably armed, they headed back into what was more likely than not going to be a fight. Liz led the way around the pit where the battle was still ongoing to the other side and what on first glance appeared to be nothing more than storage, right up until Magnus waved the glamour away and let them pass through to an area of the ship that was nearly identical to the previous, save for the fact it was both better lit and had an armed patrol waiting for them.

The rescued women were not yet at a hundred percent fighting prowess but, then again, neither was Alec. They were still trained since birth and far more than a match for what faced them, and that was before Magnus started simply tossing people left and right and occasionally over the side to the pit below, magic bathed in shades of red instead of its usual hues of blue. Threat seriously diminished, he paused to take in just what they felt the need to hide away, and his stomach turned from what he saw.

One side of the corridor held several small rooms of an almost residential sort with beds instead of pallets or gurneys, sinks and toilets and even small rugs on the cold floor. Inside were five women dressed far nicer than the scrubs allotted to those that they had found so far. Leggings, tunics, rounded bellies and bright red circle runes at their necks told their tales. They hesitated though, not sure if they should fight and risk the children they carried, or stay back and make sure nothing happened to another generation of potential hate.

Magnus settled that easily enough. A blink and the doors slammed shut, handles glowing bright until they disappeared entirely. Clearly they were to be dealt with later, and possibly by a team a little more level headed than the one they were currently faced with.

There were very few rooms remaining and Alec would be lying if he said he didn’t fear what they might hold. 

The one closest to what he assumed were willing mothers had it’s windows covered in thin sheets of metal and had far more than a single lock on the heavy door. He reached for his stele to work on opening it, but found that was entirely unnecessary as it glowed bright and swung open. It was nearly a fight to see who would rush in there first, but Jace won when Magnus stepped back and conjured a light source instead. Alec approached more slowly, bow at the ready to face whatever might lurk inside.

The bed was empty and no Circle members hid in the dark corners. Instead, huddled in a small ball pressed up against the wall and the side of the mattress, was Clary. She had been gifted with a tunic and leggings versus the scrubs, but had also been gifted with a heavy manacle around her right ankle and he could see the scabs and bruises beneath it from where he stood. Her left arm was wrapped in four thin bands of what might have been metal, and a thin tube from an IV stand at her side threaded its way through, held securely in place. There were scratch marks along the skin as though she had tried to find a way to remove the contraption but had yet to succeed.

Her head was ducked down against her knees, eyes wide and unseeing, not even flinching from the brightness encroaching on the dark cave of the room. She showed absolutely no recognition, not of her surroundings nor of Jace when he shouted her name and rushed to kneel by her side.

He reached for her, fingertips against her pulse point before he zeroed in on the thing wrapped around her wrist. Alec saw her blink, saw the way her left hand formed a fist around something he couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t even have the chance to shout a warning before Clary swung out, Jace’s own reflexes stopping her before she made contact. She struggled for a moment and either ignored or simply did not hear his assertions of just who he was. He managed to knock what looked to be the needle from her IV out of her hand and wrapped himself bodily around her to both restrain and hold her. His eyes glowed golden and Alec could only guess what runes he was attempting to activate, knowing he would only try to calm her and let her have as many choices available as possible. “It’s me,” he repeated, almost chanted until some of the tension and she nearly collapsed against him.

Ramona stepped in and picked up the discarded needle to hold up to the light. “Yeah, she’s one of us,” she sniffed in appreciation before she tossed it to the side. She searched the corners while Jules and Elizabeth stood watch in the hallway. Finding nothing, she took up a stance just within the doorway, weapon at the ready, still giving them privacy if needed. Of all the people present, absolutely no one would fault anyone for wanting that.

“Can we get this off of her?” Alec asked as Jace was too busy rocking Clary and whispering assurances that it really was them, that they really were there to take her home. If he had actually activated her iratze, it clearly had yet to work as the scratches remained raw and open.

Jace fumbled for his stele, unwilling to fully let Clary go, so it came down to Alec to crouch beside them both and scribble a quick unlocking rune on the manacle. He winced at the damage beneath even as he knew he had similar injuries that were still technically healing. He moved on to her arm, not quite sure where to start with the multiple wrappings. They lit blue before he could even look for a buckle and the entire thing clanked to the ground, the weight of it causing the IV pole to teeter.

“What were they giving her?” he asked. He trusted Magnus to know far more about those things than himself. If Izzy was there, she could explain it to him, possibly without even sounding like he was being dumb.

Magnus eyed the bag of liquid and scowled. A wave, and it burst into heatless flame, as did the remnants of the restraints. “Fertility drugs and muscle relaxants,” he replied with a tone that implied her would prefer to set more things alight.

Jace looked up at that, adjusting himself so that Clary could still bury her face against his chest when he asked, “Was she... did they?”

Clary shook her head, but refused to look up or make any sort of eye contact with anyone. Her nails dug against the leather of Jace’s jacket, hair catching and knotting even further on the zipper. It was an even bet if she was responding to the question, or simply their presence.

“They gave us those for several days before they prepped us for something more,” Elizabeth explained. Her voice was dull, devoid of feeling, but he saw the white knuckled grip she had on her blade.

“There is no way that is even remotely soundly medical,” Magnus muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “They must have used their pet warlock to tamper with it, either the drugs or the... the other part.” He winced at the end, stopping himself from saying something that might trigger the others.

“Can you walk?” Jace asked Clary. He shifted his grip to help her stand but did not fully let go.

She pushed herself up onto her bruised and bare feet and took one very shaky step before she started to fall right back into him. He caught her easily enough and she buried her face again almost immediately.

“Let me help you get some of that out of your system, Biscuit,” Magnus offered. His fingertips glowed blue, but stopped immediately when she flinched away.

“Clary?” Alec questioned.

Magnus motioned to Jace, who wrapped his arms around her even tighter than before. She relaxed into the hold slightly, and the warlock ran quick hands around them both, careful not to actually touch and careful for his magic to not actually be seen. It took only a moment, and the look on Magnus’ face when he stopped was a combination of sadness and fury. “They haven’t erased a single memory. Her mind is completely intact. I didn’t dig that deeply, and won’t without her permission, but if were to guess? She was aware enough to witness to what their warlock did, to herself and possibly others.” He swallowed a sneer and physically looked away before he added, “The only rune recently activated is nourishment.” 

“Can we find this warlock? Maybe rough him up a lot?” Jace asked against a mouthful of red hair.

“Dibs,” Alec said, only to hear the word echo from at least two other places. He stood and tried to hide the wince from his movements. Another iratze would be pointless, even as every current injury screamed for attention. Clary wasn’t in the same state as him though and he tried to remember where her iratze was, if he could reach it the way she still clung to Jace, and wondered if she’d let him draw a new one if necessary. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but maybe it would help. “Do you have her?” he asked his parabatai, knowing it was a stupid question. The look Jace gave him in response said as much. There were still rooms to go though, as well as the fight below them that echoed up to their level.

The next room held a horror of its own. Rosemarie had managed to rip her bedding into shreds and was in the process of looping it through one of the metal beams that ran across the ceiling, balance perilous on the edge of her thin mattress. “By the Angel,” Jules gasped, rushing to try to catch her.

Rosemarie kicked her away and nearly fell into her plan anyway save for the cloud of blue that surrounded her. “Unless you can get this thing out of me...” she started with a sob.

Magnus stepped forward, magic still in place, head cocked to the side as he read something no one else could see. He met her eyes and told her, “There is nothing to remove, it didn’t take.” His magic swarmed back to him and he gathered it in a fist before it blinked out to nothing. Alec would have to ask him about that later, needed to know if he lied or if he simply pushed the belief into her hard enough for her not to question it and not to do something stupid in her doubts.

She did collapse at that, Jules barely discarding her blade in time to catch her. They made short work of the restraints that mirrored Clary’s and shuffled her out into the well lit hallway before she had second thoughts. Jace had managed to get his charge there as well, and Ramona snapped her fingers until he tossed her what she wanted. “Everyone’s after my stele,” he grumbled. “It’s like you don’t realize Alec has one too.”

Magnus opened his mouth to make the obvious double entendre, but managed to stop himself just in time. “Two rooms left,” is all he said instead.

They opened the door to reveal Cassandra sitting on the edge of the bed, twirling her IV line absently, droplets of liquid spattering against the wall and floor. “Took you long enough,” she griped. She turned to face her rescuers and her eyes opened wide when she realized just who was with them.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Liz agreed. 

She stepped forward to do just that, but Alec stopped her. His instincts screamed at him and he hadn’t made it this far in life by ignoring them. “I’ve got it,” he said as he gently pushed his way in front of her. His bow was shouldered and he held his stele in his right hand, a quick signal flashed with his left. It took all of two seconds to approach, to see Cassandra’s grip on the line change ever so slightly, and for him to surge forward.

Her image shifted as he did so, just as he expected. He was ready for it though and wrapped his arms around her to take her to the ground, stele unerringly finding a certain symbol, one he had put there himself, and swiped over it three times in quick succession. She screamed as the agony rune was activated and tried to thrash against him, an act made easier as her chains and IV port had solely been part of her glamour along with a few dramatic bruises that didn’t actually exist. She landed a decent hit against his already injured ribs, but was no match against a second Shadowhunter and a rather pissed off warlock. A flash of red later, and she was unconscious on the floor, circle rune bright and out in the open.

“How did you know?” Elizabeth asked. She crouched next to him, sword in hand, unsure if she should help him or further take out the threat.

Alec took Magnus’ hand and lurched to his feet, one arm braced against what he was fairly certain was once again cracked bone. He motioned to the rune on her forearm, the one barely covered by the tunic’s sleeves she had stupidly pushed up, and explained, “I put that there when I escaped.” He tried to angle Magnus back a few steps to give himself some breathing room or at least room to move should Cassandra be able to fight off what they’d done to her, and his physical body moved even as his magic stubbornly stayed to try to heal him until he glared. “She’s too new, too much of a novice to know what it means. Only prison guards and administrators are required to learn it, and she might have thought it was a single use thing. She’s also been on watch for her behaviors since she came to us less than a year ago. Too aggressive against Downworlders, trouble controlling her temper when told to back down.”

“She defected,” Liz spat. If her foot happened to connect with the thankfully unconscious woman’s side, Alec pointedly didn’t see it. Then again, his mind was currently filled with the images of everything she had done, everything she did to him and everything he heard her agree to with the others. He fought the urge to shiver and focused on Liz as she ranted, “Knowing what they did, what they had planned... she defected.”

“And she will be sent to the Clave to be dealt with,” Alec assured her. The last thing he needed was any of the survivors to loose sight of the prize of freedom in the need for vengeance. He was having a hard enough time with that himself and wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk her down.

Magnus removed anything Cassandra could use as a weapon, against herself or others, on the very off chance she woke before they could properly deal with her, and then warded the door in a way similar to what he had done to the other Circle women that they had come across so far. There was going to be a massive portal to the prisons when it came time, but there was no need for him to waste his energy on individual ones when there was so much more for them to still do.

“One to go,” Jules announced as she gestured towards the end of their passageway.

“Well, other than the pit of despair,” Magnus amended under his breath.

The final room was another lab, bright and white and with temperature controlled coolers faced with glass, rows of neatly marked vials visible from within. If Alec were to guess, the earlier and more makeshift labs were for the Downworlder findings and maybe some of their unethical procedures, but this one was pure Shadowhunter. This was partially confirmed when Ramona lifted a tray labeled “Subject 7” and threw it to the floor to shatter at her feet. “That’s what they called me,” is all she spat out by way of explanation.

“Twelve,” he managed, the simple word caught in his throat. 

Jules found the offending item first and offered it to him. “Do you want the honors, sir?” she asked expectantly.

He was tempted, so very tempted. He started to reach and the bile rose high in his throat. He knew what they did to get each and every one of those samples, could feel it like a phantom touch upon his skin, knew each of the others had gone through the same or at least something similar. “Magnus?” he managed instead.

His lover understood precisely where he was coming from. The tray lifted from Jules’ grasp and began to glow a faint red, glass shaking and liquid bubbling from within. Despite the look of utter hatred and anger he wore, Magnus’ voice was eerily calm when he said, “Ladies, please feel free to have your cathartic experience, but please also trust me to make very, very certain that no traces remain.”

“Not even the Clave gets their hands on this,” Alec agreed.

Elizabeth and Jules began to ransack the cabinets and coolers. They tossed anything and everything into a pile atop one of the work surfaces, more than a single item with great force. Ramona joined in soon enough, and added physical paperwork to the mix as well as nearly anything else they could find. He and Magnus went after the electronic files and the thumb drives that were scattered about with the plan to send them wherever Izzy had sent the Downworlder data on the off chance it was needed for the injured. “Do it,” Jules ordered, breathless, once the lab as a whole had been thoroughly trashed. That she trusted a Downworlder with this, with something so dear and emotionally charged, spoke volumes to Alec and he knew Magnus understood the weight of that responsibility.

The pile glowed a brilliant red, glass exploding and paperwork igniting, all contained within a protective bubble. That bubble grew, surged to fill up the empty space allotted to it, before it collapsed inward, blinking out with one last luminescent flicker, leaving nothing but the tinniest bit of grit and dirt in its wake.

“Well, that was precisely what I needed,” Ramona quipped. Her face was as ashen as he certain his own had to be. This was not a final solution, and they all knew it. It was, however, a huge weight lifted to know no one aside from Alec and the people he himself selected would have access to the most personal details recorded over their stay, and that was if he didn’t just have Magnus scan the Shadowhunters, fix what he could, and let the drives make pretty little explosions back at the loft.

“Are we done?” Elizabeth asked, shoulders slouched and possibly using the edge of the wall to stay upright. “Do we get to go home now? Because a glass of something my mother wouldn’t approve of and my own bed sounds awesome right about now.” 

As much as he hated to say it, and as much as he already knew what they would decide the second he made the offer, he forced himself to admit, “You have a choice, all of you do. You can leave for the Institute right now and no one would blame you. Get checked out and have your vices and your comfort; we’ll even call ahead to make sure everything’s fully stocked. Or you can help us finish the fight Izzy and the Downworlders have going on in that pit and make sure the teams outside have cleared a path home for everyone else.”

Four women and one warlock lined up before him. They were tired and bruised and had every right to walk away and take a well earned rest for everything they had been through. They were also armed and, as Rosemarie herself said as she hefted a stolen blade, “We’re Shadowhunters. We finish this.”

“I’m not actually one of you, but... you go, I go and all that,” Magnus said airily. If it wasn’t for the magic Alec could feel crackling around him, he might have even believed the blasé attitude. Maybe. For a moment.

There were two people decidedly missing though. Alec stepped back out into the main passageway to find Jace nearly at the other end, jogging after something he could not see. He felt only a sense of panic and worry through their bond and so he hesitantly asked, “Jace? Where’s Clary?” and wasn’t sure he truly wanted the answer.

His parabatai spun back around and yanked at the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “She just grabbed a seraph blade and took off,” he huffed in agitation.

“Did she say anything? See anything?” Alec tried.

Jace shook his head. “She hasn’t... not since we found her.” He swallowed; Clary’s lack of communication was a larger issue they didn’t have the time to deal with quite yet, though clearly a result of whatever she had gone through in the time she had been held captive. “She didn’t want to go into the lab. There was a noise from the pit, well, more than what there had been. I turned when you lit up everything in there and when I turned back, she and my dagger were gone.”

“Red’s getting her vengeance on,” Ramona whispered approvingly.

Alec glared at her. “We all want vengeance, but we can’t be stupid about how we get it,” he bit back.

“We’re Shadowhunters,” Liz said in a parroting of Rosemarie’s earlier words. “Yes, we can.”

Alec breathed out through his nose and was torn between humor and exasperation at the truth to the statement. A society of warriors did tend to not always follow the rational path, he’d be the first to admit that. He was in charge though, at least nominally, so he tried his best to look stern as he ordered, “Stay close, we’re not losing anyone else. We take that way down to the others and keep an eye out for anyone, Shadowhunter or otherwise.”

Jace looked as though he was going to object, and Alec didn’t need their bond to know why. He just leveled a glare at him to try to hold him back, knowing he’d slip away the moment he thought he found a sign of their missing teammate no matter what his orders were anyway. At least this way they had a rough idea where they were all headed before it was shot to hell and gone. Also, he could pretend he didn’t know what Jace had planned so it didn’t encourage the others quite as much.

It turned out to be a non-issue after all. They found Clary only a few steps away from the bottom of the nearest staircase. Her stolen weapon was in hand and it was pointed directly at a sizable man with a bright red circle branded to his neck. The man in question had been dragging a much smaller man decked out in a cloak of all things by the chains he was bound with, and he tossed him to the side to make a charge at his new opponent.

He didn’t get far, wrapped up as immediately as he was in swirls of blue and red. “Biscuit, can I assume this is not a friend of yours?” Magnus asked warily. He flicked his wrist and the man now hovered a good foot off of the ground, still fighting the hold and still getting precisely nowhere.

“That’s the warlock,” Jules said of the crumpled and chained thing in a heap on the floor.

The sniveling man in question held up his hands to show that he was both unarmed and already chained. Not that such a thing meant anything when magic was at play. He hung his head though, knots of black and what might have been orange hanging in an admittedly bruised face. “They took my daughter,” he said by way of explanation.

“Warlocks are sterile,” Rosemarie scoffed. It looked like Ramona was the only thing stopping her from running the man through and that was with a barely there touch to her shoulder.

“Not all family is bound by blood,” Magnus reminded her. He pointedly nodded at Clary as if to make his argument.

“I’ve raised her since she was three,” the other warlock insisted. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I wiped memories and healed injuries and helped them with a single spell. They threatened to kill her. I would have rather died myself.” He paused to sob and managed a shaky sniff before he said, “Take me if you need, bring me to the Clave if you have to, but spare her? Please, she’s all I have!”

The Circle member out and out laughed at him for that. “The fool would do anything for her. He had no idea we had already... dealt with her. A female of birthing age? She was precisely what we needed.”

“She’s human!” the warlock shouted. “Purely Mundane! I know of no Mundane to successfully carry a Nephilim to term.”

The other man rolled his eyes, relaxing into the hold Magnus still held him in, undoubtedly ready to attack should that hold lift. “And she was very useful in helping us determine we couldn’t make more of us without that cup. We tried to make her one of us, and she became something else entirely. Your Downworlder magic must have corrupted her long before we got to her.”

Ramona’s blade went slack in her hand and Alec had to admit that he needed to tighten the grip on his bow so as not to lose it. It was Liz who voiced it though, when she said, “He drew runes on a Mundane. He...”

“Made her a Foresaken,” Jules finished for her.

There was quite a lot that happened then. There was the crack of bone breaking when Clary slugged the guy with the hilt of her dagger and his nose shattered from the impact. There was also an anguished scream from the bound warlock, who tried his very best to break those bonds, wisps of red swirling ineffectually around him. There was a solid thump as Magnus tossed the Circle idiot up against the wall and his head collided with enough force to knock him unconscious, a gift Alec himself wouldn’t have been so willing to give. Finally, there was the thud as the man collapsed to the floor, and his own blade clattered beside him.

“So we have at least one Forsaken in the mix now too?” Jace asked, breaking the silence that had fallen amongst them. He was panting, seething, but trained enough to focus on what needed to be done.

“Probably more,” Alec guessed because, really, nothing else had gone well for them. 

He sighed and closed his eyes, just for a second, and instantly regretted it. He remembered his escape. He remembered how he went down instead of up, not knowing it was a boat instead of a building. He remembered the howls of the trapped wolves in their various forms, the profanity and curses from the vamps locked in their cages. He remembered the saner ones that pointed him in the right direction, distracted his pursuers for the promise of an attempt at coming back for them should he succeed. He remembered the dirt and the shadows and the cramped conditions. He remembered... 

His eyes popped open and he ignored the worried looks he received from those gathered around him. He didn’t want to know how long he had been lost in thought, only that it had been enough time for him to list slightly to the left, Jace now with a hand up as if to catch him. He shook his head, both to clear it and to warn him off. “They kept the Forsaken with the other Downworlders, in a locked room right next to the wolves.”

“Locks that I likely destroyed in an effort to assist your sister and Raphael in their battle,” Magnus winced, taking fault for a situation that they had limited information about at the time.

There was a slew of profanity, and not just from him. Magnus quickly shoved the still sobbing warlock through a portal to parts unknown, and then the group as a whole took off towards where they could see cages swinging empty in the air and a great deal of activity on the floor below them.


	4. Chapter 4

They stormed right into the midst of the crowd, only to find the crowd turn and stare at them questioningly. All that remained were those that had been captured and so recently freed. Their injuries were horrendous and they limped and shuffled about trying to take care of each other, even as some readied for a fight with the newcomers. 

“They’re with us,” Luke announced, and the wolf contingent immediately backed down. Alec saw what appeared to be humans, likely the Circle members, crammed into the same cages where they had previously kept their charges, wolves and vampires working together to keep them contained.

A few vamps still circled, but slunk back when Raphael approached. Alec noted that, of those who remained, the vamps seemed to be far better off than the wolves. He also noted that many of them surreptitiously wiped the edges of their lips and looked away. He raised an eyebrow, but Raphael shrugged with false innocence. “I couldn’t stop them taking a few sips of those corrupt Shadowhunters. Mainly because I didn’t try.”

“They are not Shadowhunters, they are Circle members, Valentine’s men,” a very familiar voice rang out. It was Isabelle. She was streaked with dirt and blood and had clearly seen a good fight recently, but otherwise looked relative unscathed. “Hi, big brother,” she greeted him pointedly, and the last few stragglers backed off.

“Make some new friends, Iz?” he asked as he lowered his weapon. He wasn’t fully removing it from being at the ready, but saw the benefit of it not being seen as a threat.

“Yeah, you should try it sometime,” she smirked. “Everything locked down up there?” she asked with a rough gesture to the rest of the ship.

He nodded, nearly too exhausted for words at this point. His runes were doing there best, but they had reached their limits around the time his contingent had found Ramona and he was running on not much more than fumes. He knew words were needed, important ones even, so he dragged a breath into his lungs and warned, “There’s at least one Forsaken at play, if not more. They used runes on Mundanes because they really were that stupid.”

“They hoped to make more Circle members just by branding people,” Isabelle guessed. She shook her head and swore under her breath. Louder, she called, “Has anyone seen any Forsaken? Human-like, usually corrupted in some way, and usually insane.”

“You mean other than the ones we locked up earlier?” a random vampire behind her asked. Alec perked up at that, until he realized the man motioned to where the surviving Circle members were corralled. 

He scanned the area and willed his memory not to fail him. There, in a corner piled with debris and cloaked with shadows, he saw one last door just barely cracked open, as though the lock had been blown off but no further attempt made to enter the room. “There,” he pointed.

He wasn’t surprised when Izzy pushed him back and stalked forward with the Luke and Raphael at her side. He rolled his eyes and followed anyway, a slightly smaller and more elaborately dressed shadow hovering behind him. Raphael didn’t want Izzy to go first but wasn’t dumb enough to stop her and she had apparently earned some admirers in the fight as several others edged towards the entrance despite their injuries. Her gasp put everyone on edge and there were more than a single set of fangs and claws that started to come out before she stepped back with a shake of her head.

That wasn’t an answer as far as Alec was concerned and he followed the two clan leaders inside, nearly overcome with the need to retch at what he saw. The Forsaken had been nothing more than additional experiments to their captors, the remnants of which were scattered about the darkened room. He didn’t know if he should have taken solace in the fact the warlock’s daughter didn’t have to live long with the insanity brought on by the runes, or that the girl the warlock knew would have been long gone before the worst of it happened.

He stepped back out into what he knew was rank air and breathed deeply at how pristine it was in comparison to that room. Magnus looked to him cautiously, curiously, but he only managed the same reaction his sister had even as he knew it wouldn’t be sufficient for the gathered crowd. He pushed back the images, of what had been done to them and the reminder of what had been done to himself, and managed to address all of the unasked questions with a simple, “The Forsaken will not be an issue.”

“There wouldn’t have been a cure for her, for any of them,” Magnus reminded him as he drew him further from the room. “She would have ceased being herself, understanding what was happening to her, within moments of the stele leaving her skin.”

“It doesn’t make it better,” he growled, low and painful, angry at the situation but not the man trying to comfort him. He turned back to where Luke and Raphael waited. They spoke in hushed whispers that stopped as soon as they saw they had his attention, treating him like he was in charge of this mess of a mission when he himself was barely holding on.

He dared to look at what he could only call their lieutenants and expected them to see through his thin veil of control. He expected expressions of derision or sneers at his own admitted weakness. Instead, they lowered their heads with a slight tilt to the side, a sign of respect of all things, something he wasn’t sure he had earned quite yet.

There was a ruckus from somewhere behind him and he and his allies turned to see one of the younger vamps, fangs out, approach where his own recently rescued crew still hung back. “The redhead is Valentine’s daughter,” he spat. “The ones that held us damn near worship that man and think his kid’s the second coming. I say we take her out before they can rally around her again.”

“Damnit,” Raphael sighed, all pretense of having a moment of understanding between the clans lost. Louder, he ordered, “Arturo, no! Stand down. That girl doesn’t pay for her father’s sins anymore than you pay for yours.”

Another vampire, a brunette with scorched hair and torn clothing sneered. “Why did she get to stay with their kind then? Even the other Shadowhunters were kept away from her.”

“She went through the same thing we all did,” Alec cut her off, with a stress on the inclusion of himself. “I saw it with my own eyes. Worse, really, as they wouldn’t wipe her memory or heal her. The others had runes and you had a fresh infusion of blood.” He didn’t add that the blood had the same empowering and addictive aspects of normal Shadowhunter blood, not wanting to incite them further.

The one called Arturo began to pace. “Didn’t heal, huh? That just makes her easy pickings.”

Alec was tired, her knew this. That said, he wasn’t sure even activating his speed rune he would be as fast as the vampire who was most likely hopped up on enhanced blood and feeling euphoric. A blink and the man was gone. Another, and Clary no longer stood next to Jace, though thankfully she had kept her grip on her blade.

There was a clang from the direction of the labs they had just come from, and he turned to head for them, only to find the brunette and two of her colleagues in his way, a reminder that far more of the Downworlders had been taken than first reported. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned, hearing his words echoed by multiple voices.

There was another clang, this time as a seraph blade fell from the level above to clatter at the vampires’ feet. “Oh, I think I do,” she smiled. “Especially now.”

A blond to her left held up a hand, though whether it was to him or to a snarling Luke behind him, he wasn’t sure. “We don’t want to hurt anyone else here. Everyone has suffered, but if we can end his bloodline and stop them from having something to rally behind?” The man paused and looked almost regretful. “One person when we have lost so much?”

“Is one too many,” Raphael answered for him. He glanced around though, checked to see how many of his would side with him over the other four.

Alec ignored the vampire drama and looked up to see Clary dangling over the metal safety railing, held up solely by her throat and a tenuous tiptoe hold. Her hands were free though, and that’s when he had a really bad idea.

He pulled out his own stele, mostly ignored during the op. “Magnus, can you get her this?” he asked.

Magnus paused, something red and glowing in his hands that blinked out at the request and he wondered what he had planned as the fight seemed almost out of range of the warlock’s usual magic. “Yes, of course, but I’m not sure if she can reach the runes she’ll need in-” He cut himself off with the same blink it took for an entirely different stele to materialize in Clary’s hand after she groped at the back of her tunic. It must have been Jace’s, his earlier joke come back to haunt them. 

“Alec, you sure about this? Do we need to stop her?” Jace warned under his breath, barely loud enough for him to hear and he was now standing at his side. A glance showed he wasn’t wrong to be concerned. Another showed a blur of a being taking off up the stairwell, though he couldn’t tell if it was friend or foe.

“Get down!” Alec shouted. “Every vampire, duck and cover!” 

He looked back up in time to see Simon try to pull Arturo off of her all while trying to grab Clary and pull her to safety. Her hands were in motion though and he knew precisely what rune she would be inscribing. He turned to see some of the vamps had listened to his warning, but even Raphael stood there dumbly, trying to figure out what was going on. He threw himself on top of him and felt Luke try to hold them both in place when Raphael tried to buck him off. He may not have known what was about to happen, but trusted the frantic emotion behind the warning if nothing else.

The room was soon filled with the blinding force of pure sunlight and even he needed to close his eyes against the glare. He forced them open anyway, needed to know what was going on. He saw Arturo burst into flames, the only thing that held Clary in place turn to ash, and she began to fall, light still pointed upwards, only to be stopped by Simon when he made the jump and caught her. He wrapped himself around her, the impact taking him to his knees. The light dimmed, but only because it was bodily covered by them both. It looked like it emanated from between them, a witchlight fractured and upped in power by about a thousand times.

Alec glanced around to see werewolves had helped to cover some of the vampires, and that the remaining troublemakers sizzled slightly when they emerged from their hiding places. They were quickly surrounded by the lieutenants and readily held up their hands in supplication.

Simon was as oblivious to the drama as he was to his own injuries and just continued to rock Clary, to whisper reassurances that she was safe, that she was whole, that he had her. Jace rushed to her side and she buried her face in his shoulder, but still refused to let go of Simon, and even from where Alec lay, werewolf elbows digging in painfully to sensitive body parts, he could hear her sobs as the light finally faded.

He could also hear something else.

Vampires and werewolves alike speculated just what the source of light was. Did it come from the Shadowhunter or the Daylighter? Did they want to risk crossing either knowing at least one of them held such a deadly weapon? He wouldn’t answer but he could tell both Luke and Raphael had their suspicions. They were in the lair of those who experimented to give abilities to others. The daughter of the founder of that movement was just involved in a miraculous event. Her best friend, a known anomaly himself, might try to cover for her, but the whispers were already starting.

“You can’t wipe that many minds,” Raphael warned when Magnus pulled the three of them off of each other and back to their feet.

“Most are already suffering wipes,” Luke pointed out. He reached over and helped Isabelle off of a wiry thing that looked reluctant to have such a prize removed from his grasp. “If what happened to the others holds true, this will be jumbled at best, if not outright forgotten.”

“The entire rescue might be,” Raphael agreed. He swiped at his lips and Alec wondered if he had also nibbled on one of the captors or at least wanted to, though he had seen him make a similar gesture when agitated before. He just stared at Magnus though, almost daring and most definitely warning. Not that the warlock seemed to care in the least.

After it was verified that the fight outside had the same victors as the one inside, Magnus began to check people over, verify what cures they would need if he himself was not enough, and then portal them home. For the vampires, that was to the DuMort. For the wolves, that was to a certain little restaurant situated dockside where several of Magnus’ warlock friends had set up shop to triage and treat the injured. For the Shadowhunters, it was mostly to the Institute, though some stayed behind to verify there were no lingering surprises on the ship. The Clave had even sent a representative, once the battle was over of course, with promises that more were incoming to decommission the vessel. As for the Circle members, they were to be sent via portal directly to Idris, even the pregnant ones, and the dead of all types were to be prepared for funerary rites. When they carefully wrapped even the Foresaken, Alec knew Magnus mourned the smallest one in his own way.

He had stayed, even when multiple requests from multiple factions insisted he rest. He needed to see this through though, for himself as well as every single Shadowhunter, vampire, or werewolf that had been affected. It was closure of a sort he guessed. He needed to know that the threat was gone and he needed to see that the captured were able to get home, get to safety, so that maybe he could find that safety himself. 

Luke, Raphael, and even Magnus reluctantly understood that. Luke stayed until every last wolf, dead or alive, passed through a portal. Raphael himself carried the last vampire through, Simon having led the first ones back while under orders to deal with his own injuries as well. Isabelle stayed at Alec’s side any time Magnus himself could not, coordinating the efforts and probably stopping him from doing something stupid, he supposed. Jace brought the Shadowhunters back to the Institute, both the captured and those who worked to free them, Clary wrapped like a limpet around him. 

Alec had ordered him to take her and the others to the Infirmary and have them checked over no matter what the protests were. Magnus had looked at him askew as if his own magical check wasn’t enough. “They need the peace of mind of procedure,” he had argued back. “They need a medic to tell them that their wrist is fine but they need another hour before their ribs heal.”

“And how long do you need until your own knit back together?” Magnus cut back knowingly.

Alec was different though. He could deal with his own injuries, or so he kept telling himself, but more importantly he needed to know that his people were fine. He needed to know that the wolves could be patched up and that the damned vampires had a large enough blood supply to start their own version of healing. He needed to know that his actions of checking on them might well stop any retaliation of the idiotic sort and he needed to know that the people who did this in the first place would get what they deserved. 

The Clave was not big on witnesses of the non-condemned sort at their executions, but he wondered if they would make an exception this one time.

“It’s over, Alec,” Izzy whispered to him. She raised herself up to try to press a kiss to his cheek and managed to hit his jawline. “Go home.”

He blinked himself out of his reverie to find that even the Clave representative was preparing to return with his report so that they knew just what needed to be done and how many to send to do it. They had found evidence of at least two other Shadowhunters that had been taken, both males, but they had yet to turn up alive nor were any bodies found. A search was begun under the assumption they may be out there wandering aimlessly with no clue where they were or how to get home. The ship as a whole was warded, sealed, and glamoured so that nothing further could get in or out without setting of dozens of metaphysical alarms. “Yeah, okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

When Magnus opened separate portals for Isabelle and the two of them, he paused to question it, but only for a moment. He had already been advised that each and every victim had been looked over and sent to the comfort of their own rooms to recover versus the starkness of the Infirmary that mirrored where they had been kept, though Rosemarie was to be kept under subtle watch for a while. He supposed that the same could be true for him, only his source of comfort was far from the room where he had grown up. He nodded to Izzy and watched her step through, the final of his people to leave, and then he let Magnus guide him as if afraid he’d get lost between the realms.

He managed to make it past the foyer, depositing his borrowed weapons to deal with later and only half watched as they were hung in their usual spots, pristine and clean if a little awash in blue. He even managed a handful more steps before the shaking started. His muscles felt weak and his vision blurred and everything hurt from slice on his wrist to the tips of his hair. He trudged on anyway, right until his knees knocked up against the side of the bed. He felt himself divested of his jacket and decided that was enough and started to lower himself down onto the bed. He heard a sympathetic sigh of, “Oh, Alexander,” and then felt his boots pulled off and away. A soft blanket was pulled up and over him, and warm arms surrounded him. He closed his eyes and breathed in something less than death and destruction, and let himself slip away into nothingness.

He awoke to find himself in his pajamas instead of the remnants of his gear, and silently thanked Magnus for the comfort. The warlock was still curled around him, though he couldn’t say if he was actually asleep or not. From the way the light filtered in from the curtains, he assumed it was at least midday if not later, and a glance at the clock on his bedside table told him the latter assumption was correct.

He gently freed himself and padded to the bathroom, and felt curious eyes follow every step. He closed the door so that he could pretend he wasn’t aware of being watched, and decidedly avoided the mirror. Based on how he felt, he knew he probably looked like pure and utter crap. He still ached, some of his injuries real and some not so much at that point, and his head felt both too heavy and too light at the same time. He knew he was stronger than that, that he needed to be, and so he took a deep breath and started to get ready for a day that was already more than half over.

The water from the shower was too hot and the stuff from the tap when he brushed his teeth was too cold and he resigned himself to everything feeling out of sorts for a while. He debated between comfort and the faux appearance of professionalism as he mentally chose his clothing for the day, but that was decided for him when he received a fire message. He rolled his eyes at the incongruity of a flaming piece of paper in the middle of a still steamy bathroom, and then rolled his eyes again when he read the actual message. It was from Izzy and held some not so thinly veiled threats that he better not show up at the Institute today followed by promises that she would contact him if he was actually needed.

That settled, he returned to the bedroom and pulled on his oldest, most worn down and comfortable jeans and a thermal shirt that Magnus had threatened to throw away on multiple occasions. The soft fabrics felt right against his skin and, when he glanced down, he saw himself, who he wanted to be, and not something he was forced to experience.

Magnus seemed to understand, or at least pretended to very well. He pulled on a robe and headed to the kitchen to make an extremely late breakfast by hand and not by magic. The routine of it all as calming as the way the room filled with the scent of fresh coffee and pancakes.

“Either the Clave has loosened the dress code, or you are doing the right thing and taking a day off?” Magnus guessed as he poured a second cup. 

“Izzy sent a fire message detailing the ways she would hurt me if I showed up today,” Alec admitted. At the way Magnus raised his eyebrows and tightened his posture almost imperceptibly, he quickly explained, “Things like painting my room pink and orange, replacing my shampoo there with something called Nair, and pushing the pictures of me from when I totally failed at making my first fire message and may have possibly lit myself instead of the paper to the main servers.”

“Your sister and I need to talk,” Magnus hummed in consideration, visibly relaxing. Alec doubted even he knew how much he had gone on the defensive over a simple comment. “It would be a crime to rid you of that hair, but I may need to see an ash-covered mini-you. I bet you were adorable.”

“More like terrified and banned from using my stele for a week,” Alec corrected. He had been handed a pencil, a simple Mundane pencil, and was required to draw the stupid rune until his hand hurt from it. He flexed that hand now, partially in memory of the punishment and partially because it still held what had to be a phantom pain from the previous days’ events at this point.

Magnus, of course, noticed. He put down his coffee and inquired, “Does your wrist still hurt? I know we were wary of using another iratze, but perhaps my magic could be of assistance now that we have everything else in check?” There was an anxious undertone to his words and Alec had the feeling he was going to see far more of the overprotective mother hen side of his boyfriend before this was all over. His own skin still felt too tight, the spaces around him too small. As much as he loved Magnus, he feared the clinging would be too much and set off his temper in ways he really didn’t want to deal with. He mentally began a list of things at the Institute that might need his attention in the next day or two, little things that would either need him to be there in person or at least require some privacy to deal with.

“Just a memory,” he replied, and it wasn’t a lie. There was no way the cuffs had damaged him to the extent he would still feel it. Of course his mind had to helpfully supply images and even the intense sensation of those cuffs biting against his skin, the needles digging deep while he was helpless to avoid them. He shook it off with a sigh and had the feeling Magnus wasn’t convinced.

Anywhere he went for the rest of the day, Magnus just happened to have something to do in the same room. He knew he meant well, knew it was likely for his own comfort as much as Alec’s. He tried to think of how he would have felt if it had been Magnus missing for days only to return in less than prime condition. Instead of picturing the way he would insist on going over every inch of his lover’s skin to verify it was unbroken and whole, his mind kept drifting to the ways he himself had been treated. 

He still did not have every memory back, and at this point he didn’t want them. They had served their purpose and helped him find his people and now they could go away so that he could move on. It was ridiculous for him to dwell. It was done and over with and, more importantly, it simply wasn’t the Shadowhunter way. They had been gifted with the runes to allow themselves to rejoin the fight as quickly as possible, to help save others and not to trip over their own failings.

He put down his phone after failing to read the same message for the fourth time. He figured there was no use wasting the battery even if he could just charge it by cord or magic. It had been a message from Jace explaining why he wouldn’t be stopping by that night, not that he blamed him. Jace was pretty much the only person Clary tolerated in the same room with her, and even he had yet to be able to convince her to use the damned stele to heal herself. Jace was getting damned close to just trying to activate her iratze remotely, save for the fact she had far too many personal choices taken away from her so recently. Nothing was life threatening and no one would let her train right now anyway so, if she wanted to deal with things in her own way, he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop her. Currently, the worst thing she had done was to burn her way through several pages in her sketchbook, only to tear up the finished pieces before anyone could see them.

There was a hand on his shoulder and as much as he wanted to lean into the comfort, his body flinched away instead. He winced in apology, more so when he saw the hurt expression flicker across Magnus’ face, and belatedly realized his boyfriend had been talking and he hadn’t heard a damn thing. “Sorry,” he muttered. He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes, and asked, “Could you repeat that?”

Magnus’ lips ghosted an approximation of a smile. “Nothing important, dear. I was just saying I was going to start dinner. Does a simple curry sound good? It shouldn’t take long.”

Alec nodded absently. He could have suggested that weird oyster thing a mutual friend made once and he probably would have agreed. It wasn’t like he had much of an appetite at the moment anyway. Maybe by the time food was ready he would be ready to eat.

Another look flickered in his direction, but he did his best to ignore it. He didn’t want pity and he didn’t want to follow Magnus into the kitchen. He wanted a moment, just a moment, to breathe without feeling like the world was going to explode or crash in around him.

He listened to the clatter of pans and the quick snickt of the knife against the cutting board that emanated from the other room, and did his best to simply relax. He even lit one of the meditation candles and tried to clear his mind. Unfortunately, said mind did not want to be cleared. He was always one for little details and so many were missing from his recent experiences. It was probably not the best idea, but he decided that he would take a memory, just one, and focus his entire awareness on it. The touch, the feel, the scent, the way his ears thrummed and his innate sense of proprioception countered for the gentle roll of the ship without him ever knowing the source of extra sensation.

He wanted to concentrate on the actual abduction, on how he was taken so that he could work on the prevention of such vulnerabilities in the future. He figured it would at least be a worthwhile endeavor, something he could use, something productive after everything else that had happened.

Of course his mind had other ideas.

The gurney was cold beneath him, the thin fabric he wore no protection from it. The single light that shone directly down into his eyes was blinding. The clink of small pieces of metal, tools of some sort, against each other loud despite the rumble of background noise that surrounded him. There was a stench of filth overlaid with antiseptic and the incongruity confused him. He remembered looking away. Away from the bright light. Away from the glint of what might have been a scalpel. Away from the figure that loomed above him. There was a shadow to the right, dark and distracting and inviting in its own way. He sought his solace there, not certain if he would ever find it anywhere else.

He couldn’t actually move, couldn’t do much more than flinch and turn his head ever so slightly to the side. He was punished for even that when a needle scraped against his skin versus finding the vein.

There was a voice, steady and dull. It referred to him only by number, a constant string of, “Sample 16A from Subject Twelve,” and “Twelve will need his nourishment soon, get me a stele.” 

He decided that, of all things, he didn’t like the noise, the methodical dictation and the rhythmical hum, and that he would do what he could to block it out. If he could rid himself of that, maybe he could rid himself of the pain, of the humiliation, of the the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The clinical voice slowly faded, as did the thrum. Behind it though, was something else. Soft. Cajoling. Melodic in its own way. Try as he did to ignore it, it grew more and more insistent until he could make out a single anxious word: “Alexander.”

That wasn’t right. They didn’t know him, didn’t care to. He was solely Twelve. Solely Subject. Only one person said his name like that, said it like whisper or a prayer. Said it like it held a far deeper meaning than a simple moniker of identification ever could.

“Magnus?” he asked the shadow, and let the doubt seep through.

“Alexander!” It was a rushed sigh this time, a breath of panic and relief all rolled up into one. “Angel, please, come back inside?”

Inside. Why would he need to go inside? He was inside. Inside the cage of a room. Inside the belly of what he now knew to be a ship. 

No. 

Inside the loft. Inside the comfort of a sort of home he had made with the man he loved.

He blinked and took in his surroundings. He stood on the balcony, the wind whipping at his hair as the city below lit with the hues of the setting sun. There was a storm rolling in and the air had a bite to it, even at that height. He wasn’t on the ledge or anything ridiculous like that, but he did grip onto that ledge, felt the way the rough brick and concrete tore at his fingernails, felt the pads of his fingers trace the texture being pressed into them.

“Alexander?” the voice begged again. That wasn’t right. That voice shouldn’t sound like that. Unless there was danger. Unless there was a direct threat. 

His mind was hazy, he wasn’t sure how he got where he was or if he really was there. Images overlapped, things that seemed real and things he really hoped were the worst part of nightmares. But they weren’t. He knew that. He blinked and knew the truth, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

“Magnus?” he asked again carefully. His body began to shake, exhaustion and everything else finally catching up to him the way Luke warned it would, hours of sleep not nearly enough, and he didn’t know how much longer he could stand, even with the support of the ledge, as his knees began to buckle. He needed to make it though, needed to turn around and see that his lover was truly there, that at least that wasn’t an illusion or a figment of his imagination. 

They hadn’t managed that while he was held, didn’t know nor care enough about him personally to force that sort of fake connection. What he now knew to be Cassandra had known him, but remotely. He was her superior and she had been at the Institute for such a short time. Maybe she did know more, but kept it to herself so as not to reveal who she really was, he wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure of anything, really, other than that he couldn’t do it anymore. He had stayed strong for the others, finished the mission, got who he could home safely and would mourn the rest.

But later. He needed. He needed that safety for himself, just for a moment. He needed to know he wasn’t there, that he wasn’t going back, that it wasn’t going to happen again. He needed to make those final staggering steps, needed the strength to do at least that on his own, to have that control, before it all went away. He could feel it slipping, could feel the truth of it all trying to break free. He hadn’t been good enough, he hadn’t been strong enough, he hadn’t been what everyone seemed to think he was. He was just as broken as them, only he didn’t have the benefit of following orders to fall back on, because he was the one who needed to give direction. He had to be there for them, be the support system that they could rely on when their own failed, but that left damn near nothing for himself.

But maybe he had a support system of his own. He felt fingertips brush his skin, everything too hot and too cold at once before strong arms wrapped around him, enveloped him, offered him the strength he himself was lacking. He collapsed into those arms, let them guide him far more gently to the ground than his crashing knees would have initially. The shaking grew more obvious, tiny shivers becoming near convulsions, and those arms simply held him that much tighter.

There were words again, and he focused on them. They had drawn him out of the memory before, maybe they could hold the worst at bay now. “I’m here,” they said. “I’ve got you.”

There was a flare behind him, all around him really, and he belatedly realized that Magnus had thrown up the wards, probably all of them. He briefly wondered if it was to stop him from doing something he hadn’t planned on doing anyway, but decided to take comfort in the action instead. He was safe. No one could hurt him. No one could come in and see him at his worst. No one could hear the confession he needed to make save for the person who had been in his mind and probably knew it already.

“I remember,” he whispered into the shoulder he had buried his face in. The fine linen was already soaked through, wet against his cheek. “I remember what they did to me. I remember how they got... I remember how they enjoyed it, how they mocked me, how they drugged me. I remember how they planned to use the others, how they planned to continue to do so until they physically couldn’t anymore. I remember how some wanted to... We have to check on them, on Ramona and Jules and Liz and Rosemarie and C- and Clary, we have to make sure that they are okay...”

“We have, love, and we will again if that’s what you need,” Magnus pressed a promise into his scalp.

“I don’t know if we need to make sure they never remember, or if they would never forgive us if...” He paused and sniffed and let out his pant of a breath. “The Clave will interrogate the Circle members. They’ll brag and boast and then the secrets, their secrets and my secrets and... The Clave will know.”

“Even the Clave wouldn’t hold something like that against you, against any of you,” Magnus insisted. “You endured something horrible and are stronger for it, each and every one of you. If anything, the Clave will simply have that much more evidence to use against the guilty, not against their own.”

“They’ll question me,” he admitted softly. “They’ll question my leadership. They’ll question whether this... this trauma or whatever bullshit name for it is, whether it has created a weakness to be exploited.” He didn’t say exploited by who as that was as up in the air as any other excuse they might come up with.

A hand rubbed his shoulder, the hardness of the rings and the softness of the fingers a known and reassuring thing. “They will find you stronger for it,” Magnus insisted. “You fought past it and rescued not just your own, but the vampires and the werewolves as well. Luke and Raphael, they will defend you, they will stand by you. No other Shadowhunter has backing like that and I doubt the Clave would risk Downworlder relations when every single person you saved would stand up and protest.”

Alec sniffed again and felt Magnus was seriously underestimating the Clave, but let him have his fantasy for now. Hell, he himself even indulged, just enough to imagine that maybe, just maybe, things could turn out less than awful.

He pulled back reluctantly. He didn’t want to let go and he didn’t want to run away, but he needed to look Magnus in the eye for this one part because he didn’t know if he ever would be able to again. “I need to tell you,” he breathed. “I know you probably already know, but I need to say the words. If I can’t say them, what good am I to the others that had to live through it?”

Magnus reached out and cupped his cheek, used his thumb to brush away some of the wetness he found there. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he insisted. 

“What if I want to though?” he asked meekly. He didn’t know if it was a sense of honor or just the need for completion that drove him. “What if I want to say these things so that I can figure out what really happened versus what mind wants me to think did?” He didn’t want to throw everything on Magnus, but he also wanted him of all people to know that it may be a while before things were okay again, before he was okay again. He needed him to understand that he didn’t mean to push him away, but that he simply might not be able to control a bone deep reaction, at least not consciously, at least not right away.

“Then I will listen,” Magnus promised him. “I will listen and be there and give you room when you need it and hold you close when you need that as well. There is precisely one thing I will not do, however, and that is blame you for any of this.” He pressed a kiss to Alec’s forehead before he leaned back slightly and simply waited for whatever decision he made.

And so he told him. He told him every last detail of what he remembered. He checked occasionally to see if it was too much, if his mind had made it worse than it was and he was overreacting or outright remembering falsehoods. He discovered Magnus had done his best not to pry with the original unwinding spell, but was willing to enter his mind only to verify facts and only if he personally requested it each and every time. Throughout it all, Magnus held him and rocked him and ran soothing hands down his arms and sides and took absolutely no offense when he had to look away or close his eyes or take a moment to simply breathe.

He had no idea how long they sat like that, the cold of the cement long seeped in through his worn clothing, his knees and hip a dull ache against the hardness. When he finally pulled back again - not away completely, only enough to take in his surroundings and dare to gauge Magnus’ reaction - he found that the sun had fully set and the rain had started some time ago. Their clothing was damp, but not soaked through, and he looked up to see a protective barrier that had wrapped around them and stopped the worst of the storm from getting through what even the wards did not hold back.

“You can’t be comfortable,” he muttered in embarrassment. Magnus was at the most awkward angle, but still clung to any bit of Alec he could reach.

“While I admit an overstuffed couch in front of a roaring fire may be preferable at the moment, believe me when I say that I have had worse,” he replied.

Alec took a good look at him then. His fine clothing rumpled and creased from the rain and from Alec himself. His hair was still spiked, but the ends had already begun to droop, and his makeup was smeared in every direction. He looked like Alec felt: like every emotion had been wrung out of him and then some.

Alec forced himself to his feet, bones creaking and joints protesting, and noticed as the bubble reshaped around him. He held out his hand and yanked Magnus upright as well, tucked himself around him as much as he tucked himself under him, and together they shuffled towards the warmth of the loft, the bubble finally fading when they reached the threshold.

Alec caught the faint hint of overcooked spices and apologized, “I’m sorry about your curry. I’m guessing it’s toast?”

Magnus waved a hand and most of the smell as well as likely the burnt dish disappeared. “The curry was toast an hour ago; we had more important things to deal with,” he insisted.

They made it to the couch and Alec only jumped a little when the balcony doors slammed shut behind them, locked with a combination of metal and magic. He involuntarily shivered as a gust of wind from the action followed them and managed to hit just right against his damp clothing. A snap of fingers and a spark of blue and he was changed into his most comfortable pajamas, Magnus looking ridiculous in a matching set as he tugged multiple blankets down and over them both. They would sort out a replacement dinner eventually but, for right now, they both had precisely what they needed.

“I wasn’t going to jump,” he whispered either minutes or hours later. 

“I wasn’t going to take the chance,” Magnus replied just as softly. He was so matter of fact that Alec had no idea how to respond. He settled for burrowing deeper into the blankets and the knowledge that he didn’t burrow alone.

 

**Epilogue**

The next morning, he entered the Institute to a series of incredulous looks and outright proclamations that he needed to turn right around and go rest. He and Magnus had discussed this the night before though, over soup and sandwiches and hot apple cider that may or may not have been augmented. Magnus remained right at his side and Alec didn’t even want to imagine what kind of looks the other man threw to get everyone to back down.

He walked past the banks of computers and monitors and then right past his own office despite knowing just how much work was probably piling up there. He ignored it all as nothing more than a distraction to what was needed. It was only when he reached the residential area, one door in particular, that he paused and knocked.

Jace opened the door warily, and the dark circles under his eyes told a story of their own beyond what Alec had felt through their bond. “She managed some tea and maybe two hours of sleep last night,” he reported, and Alec knew that meant Jace himself had probably taken even less.

“Can I come in?” he asked, not willing to step across without permission. He understood her need for choice in even the simplest of matters.

Clary paused in her action of staring at a nearly solid black piece of parchment, a broken stick of charcoal in her hand. She had changed into her own clothing and he knew from the texts that she had taken to scrubbing herself clean every few hours though she was currently stained with smears of dark pigment against her too pale skin. She still favored the ankle that had yet to heal, and her hair had been brushed into some semblance of order by both Izzy and Jace in turns. She turned half-focused eyes in his direction, narrowed them in recognition, and nodded.

Magnus stayed just in the hallway and motioned for Jace to join him, neither one of them surprised when he stopped to lean up against the door jamb instead. It appeared Clary had her shadow just like Alec had his. A wave of ringed fingers and a privacy barrier was erected to prevent prying eyes from spying in.

Alec knew there was very little he could say to get through to her, not that there were words anyway. Just like him, she needed to work through this on her own terms despite how much everyone around her wanted to help, whether she actually wanted that help or not. That in mind, he wordlessly held out the package he had brought with him and waited long moments for her to take it from his hands.

She opened it curiously, unwound the long leather ties to reveal a case of new charcoals and pencils of varying hardness, with a few pieces of hopeful pastels neatly slotted in as well. She looked up at him questioningly, head cocked to the side, curls already forming tangles over her shoulders.

“Whatever you need,” he promised her as he handed over another empty sketchbook as well.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, a muted sob the first sound he had heard from her in ages. Slowly, carefully, he returned the embrace, somehow both of them managing it, probably because they were the ones initiating it, they were the ones in control of at least this.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered to her, knowing how much the sentiment had meant to himself. “We’re here if you want us, when you want us.”

There was wetness against his shirt and it was almost joined with some of his own when he heard an extremely muffled, “Thank you.”


End file.
